In a Painting

"Grandpa?"
"Yes?"
"Grandpa?"
"What?"
"Grandpa?"
"Yes, what is it?"
"Grandpa, why are all of grammy's friends so old?"
"Well, grammy is old too, you know. So am I. So of course most of our friends are old."
"I'm not old."
"No, you're not."
"And I'm your friend."
"You're my best friend."
"Grandpa?"
"Yes?"
"Grandpa?"
"What is it?"
"Grandpa, that woman in the picture has funny hair."
"It's a painting, not a picture. But yes, she has funny hair. There was a time, though, long ago, when everybody had funny hair like that."
"Did grammy have funny hair like that?"
"Grammy's not that old."
"How old is she? The woman in the picture."
"Oh, I don't know. Three hundred years, maybe."
"Three hunnert? She's really really really old."
"No, no...the painting is probably three hundred years old. Not the woman."
"How old is the woman?"
"I don't know. She's long dead by now."
"Grandpa?"
"Yes?"
"Grandpa?"
"Yes, what is it?"
"Grandpa?"
"What?"
"Grandpa, are you and grammy going to be dead?"
"Yes, someday."
"In three hunnert years?"
"Probably before that."
"A hunnert years?"
"Probably before that too."
"Will you be in a painting when you're dead?"
"Probably not."
"You should be. That'd be cool."
"Yes, it would. But I'd rather be here with you."
"Me too. Grandpa?"
"Yes?"
"Grandpa?"
"What?"
"When you're dead I'll put you in a painting."
"Thank you."

posted by greg @ 2:30 PM