Because. 

Me: Do you know how old I’ll be on my birthday?

Rooby: No. We’ll have to ask Baba. 

Me: Why?

Rooby: Only Baba knows how old you are. 

Me: Well, I know how old I am too. 

Rooby: Oh! How old will you be on your birthday?

Me: Thirty-nine. 

Rooby, shrieking with joy: Thirty-nine! Thirty-nine!! Aw, I wish I were thirty-nine. 

Me: Why?

Rooby: Because I love you. 

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