Carmella Late Night

Carmella pretty much since birth has always denied that she needs sleep or that she needs to eat at meals. She, for the most part, is a pretty self controlled child who keeps her shit together fairly well-- most of the time. That is except when she is ridiculously tired and, of course, won't admit it. Then she completely loses her shit over the most bizarre things. Innocuous, benign things that you wouldn't think would freak anyone out so you are totally blindsided by the freak out. Most of the time it is pretty funny. But we must snicker at her in private as laughing outright at her doesn't ever help. So one must always proceed delicately with all reactions and comments. And that can be incredibly difficult for me.

Sometimes, I just think the poor child got the wrong mom.

Last night the kids and I (Ryan is hunting, again!) had dinner at Meme and Pat's. We didn't get home until about 10ish and they still needed baths. Beau just kind of sat there and complied. I am not entirely sure he was really even awake. You can have whole conversations with Beau while he is asleep (odd that the kid with the speech delay is the sleep talker)so I know it is not out of reason that he can do other stuff while asleep.

Carmella, however, was freaked out about her voice being hoarse due to her cold and kept asking when she would get her regular voice back and what exactly she could do to make that happen sooner. Some how the conversation took a turn and I mistakenly made this dismissive comment:
Me: You'll understand when you are older.
Carmella (eyes big has saucers, face frozen in terror): What?
Me (confused at the reaction): When you're older. Everyone gets old. I use to be your age and now I am this age. Someday you will be too. Happens to everyone.
Carmella(now crying): I don't want to be old like Bubbles and Lala!
Me (suppressing laughter): It is better to be old than dead.
Carmella(crying hysterically): I(sob)just want to be(sob)six. I don't want to(sob) be old.
Me: Don't worry about it. You have a long time until you are old.
Carmella (completely freaking out): What! I don't want to be old for a long time! I want to be six! (sobbing uncontrollably)

I did somehow manage to peel her off the ceiling but please, Lala; in the future do you think you could stop telling her how awful it is to be old?