Live and Let Die

While on our recent roadtrip, I engaged my mother in some titillating conversation regarding the Barbara Walters special, “Live to Be 150 … Can You Do It?”

Here’s how that went:

Me: “Did you hear about that Barbara Walters special on living to be one hundred and fifty years old?”

Mom: “Yeah! Can you imagine? Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

Me: “Ummm, not really. I don’t want to know what I would look like at 150. Not to mention feel like. Why would you want to live to be that old?”

Mom: “Just to see everything that would happen in the future.”

Me: “Yeah, but even if you die tomorrow it’s not like you’re gonna know that you missed out on seeing that stuff and feel bad about it. It’s like when someone dies young and everyone is so sad saying ‘She never got to graduate college and get married and have children,’ and all that. Really, the sad part is that the people left behind never got to see the dead person do those things. It’s not like the dead person’s soul is somewhere feeling bitter about it.”

Mom: “I guess. But then how old do you think you would like to live to be?”

Me: “Well, if I could just live long enough to raise my kids to adulthood and take a few vacations with Rob to see some other parts of the world, that would make me happy. I don’t know, like around 60 or 65 years old.”

Mom (who will be 59 this year): “OHMYGOSHNO! That’s too young! Don’t you want to live long enough to see your children have children and spend time with your grandchildren?!”

Me: “Nah. I don’t really like other people’s kids.”

(Except yours. I love your kids.)