Boy Child: So, then? When hawks get to be 20? They immediately die.
Me: Do what now?
Boy Child, patiently: Hawks! You know? Birds? They die when they turn 20.
Me: Really? Twenty you say?
Boy Child: Yes, twenty. When they turn twenty they immediately die.
Me: Like on their birthday? They wake up that day and they're like, "Woo! Party! It's my birthday!" and then they fall over dead and their mom is like, "Aww."
Boy Child: No. Not always like that. Sometimes their immediate death takes a while.
Boy Child, after a moment of reflection: Mom? If you were a hawk, you would have died already.
Me: Yup. Twelve years ago.
Boy Child, after another moment of reflection: Mom?
Boy Child: I'm glad you aren't a hawk.
Me: True dat.