Worried

Today I got worried.
I got worried that this little boy thought that he was going to be allowed to turn 3 in just 2 weeks. I got worried, because if he thought that he was going to be allowed to turn 3, then eventually he might want to turn 4, and if he turns 4, then eventually he will think that he ought to turn 5 and go to school, and if he goes to Kindergarten, then he probably will want to go to college and leave me forever one day.

And then I got even more worried. I worried that now that this one is 5 months old, she thinks that in another month she'll have to be 6 months old. And if she can be 6 months old, she'll probably one day want to be a whole year old. And after that, well, you know what happens after that, one day she gets married and leaves me forever.

And I'm worried about it because this one already has started it. I mean, he already turned 5 months, and then went on to being 6 months. He already turned 3, and then went on to go to Kindergarten. And now he's a giant. He's a million years old, and one day, you guessed it, he's going to leave me forever. And I'm not going to like it. Not one bit. Already, I can't hold him anymore, and he had the nerve to stop acting overjoyed every time I walked into the room. He can feed himself, clothe himself, put his shoes on, make toast. Everything a boy needs to survive. He hardly needs me anymore other than to tell him that the cinnamon won't stick to the toast unless you butter it first. But now I've told him that, so what else am I good for?

Oh kids, would you just stop growing and be my little babies forever?

Please?