Westley has always known Claire. She's always been a constant in his life, whether it be as his babysitter, his secret Santa, as his pretend-girlfriend, his confident, as the person he could always rely on.
But she's also always been the girl he lov...
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I'm sixty three and Claire broke her ankle.
She broke it while running. She seriously needs to calm down.
Her mother is ninety six and I swear they would be doing marathon together if it wasn't for the fact that her mom has too many cataracts.
I'm beyond happy that Claire is still in such good shape, but I'm also a little annoyed that she's hurting herself trying to show that she can push herself more all the time.
"Honey, I love you, but are you trying to prove something? Because you really don't need to over exert yourself like that. Take it easy," I tell her one evening when we're sitting on our back porch swing, her broken ankle on my lap.
"The second I take it easy is the moment when I start dying, and I don't plan on kicking the bucket any time soon. I plan on growing old with you."
I laugh. "Not to shatter your dreams honey, but we've already done that."
"Oh we're not old yet. I mean like ninety-years-old old. I mean the kids will have to wheel us around, while we hold each other's hand, and we'll wear diapers and we'll have to eat soft food all the time, that kind of old."
"I don't know, I don't care much for diapers."
"I'll wear diapers if it means one more year with you. If it means one more day with you."
I smile at her. "Correct me if I'm mistaken Claire darling, but I think what you're trying to say is that you love me very much and you want us to become a burden to our children before ever giving up on living?"
"Exactly."
"May I suggest not breaking any more bones then?"
"Fine, I'll stop running like a mad woman if you come with me to the pool every other day to do laps."
