Here's how it went. We were walking back to the car after visiting the kids' school... his little hand swinging in my own. I was feeling nostalgic and was hit with a sense of panic as all my babies are growing up. That's when I blurted out my feelings.
Me: So buddy, you're my baby right?
Q: Well, if I'm your baby, then I guess I don't have to do chores anymore. Because babies can't do jobs.
Me: *gulp* Uh. *back pedal* No. It's fine. You're not a baby. You ARE a big boy. And you have to do chores.
Q: No you said I was your baby. No more chores for me!
Me: I was kidding. *nervous giggle* You're such a big boy and a big helper.
Bested by a four year old's quick wit. Goodness. I've gotta be more careful. They smell weakness.