At poker night tonight, my friend regaled me with a recent tale of his very adorable mature five-year-old, who is a quintissential first-born in that she already savors responsibility and maturity. After being taught how to make music by blowing into a beer bottle, being bored by the cartoons that was being used to babysit the children at the "grown-ups party", she began to stroll around and tell the adults proudly "look at me! I'm sixteen [an very old "grown-up" age to her] and drinking beer!"
Her two-year-old little sister then chimed in excitedly, "me too!!!"
Their parents were amused, but surprised that they were having to deal with this issue so soon...
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