At dinner I'll usually do my shtick, attempting to entertain the family. More and more often these days, however, my efforts are met with Daisy exclaiming, "Daddy! Quit it!" Sometimes there's also the merest hint of an eye-roll.

Yesterday, I tried to figure out when this behavior had started. I decided that it had probably been going on for a month or so. So then I thought back to what might have occurred a month ago. That's when I remembered. Daisy turned seven a month ago. I'm no longer funny.

When she was five, we had a conversation that I wrote about nearly two years ago in this blog post:

The other sad bit was when I received confirmation that I'm only going to be able to make my daughter laugh for another two years or so. I had asked her a few months ago what age she would be when I would no longer seem funny. "Seven", she had stated. Well, at one point during Halloween, she was on a neighbor's doorstep with a couple other kids, waiting for the door to open. It seemed like no one was home, but one kid noted that he had heard some footsteps. I then noisily stamped my feet behind them. The eldest child turned to me and rolled her eyes. "Very funny. Ha ha ha" she sarcastically barked.

"How old are you?" I asked the girl.

"Seven," she ominously replied.

Two years to go.

Holy crap! I'm not funny to seven year-olds! She was right! That's just spooky.