Ittybit: Mama? When I am an old woman will I look like you? I mean ... I don't have black hair, so I think I won't look like you. But ...

Mama (Trying not to hyperventilate): You think I am an old woman?

Ittybit (Realizing her mother's frailty): Well, I'm an an old woman, too.

Mama (Trying to regain composure): You are not an old woman. You are a young girl ...

Ittybit: I know I'm a kid, but sometimes change can be hard. In that way I'm an old woman, too.