You know how tomorrow is your birthday? I am OK with that. I will celebrate you. I will hang the balloon wreath on the door and bake you a cake and buy enough pizza for the friends you are having over. (I'm estimating about one pizza per teenage boy? Will that be enough?) I will continue to buy 6 gallons of milk every week to support your habit. I will embrace this driving and dating and being 16 thing with as much grace as I can muster. I'll be happy for you all day long.
But you have to do something for me in exchange.
This has to absolutely be the last one. No more birthdays. You are killing me with this getting older stuff.
And it has to stop.
I'm glad we've had this conversation.