When are you going to die of oldness?

Wren:  Mum when are you going to die of oldness?

Shannon:  Me?

Wren:   Yes, you.  When you get more crinkly?

Shannon:  I don't know.  In a long time.  When do you think?

Wren:  This December?  This year.

Shannon:  You think that I will die of oldness this year!!

Wren:  No, get more crinkly.  Like this...
[Wren draws wiggly lines on the paper]

Shannon:  Oh, WRINKLY.
[thinking how to approach this]

Shannon:  I don't think I will get suddenly wrinkly this year.  Am I wrinkly now?

Wren:  Your forehead looks kind of wrinkly.  Do I look wrinkly on my face?

Shannon:  No, you don't.  Why is that?

Wren:  I don't know. Maybe that is because I haven't grown up to my maximum size.  People grow up to their maximum size and then they grow crinklier and crinklier and crinklier.

Shannon:  How crinkly do you get before you die?

Wren:  As grown up as you can get.  Like this... I am this tall then grow -->  Grow --> GROW till super tall.  

Shannon:  I have stopped getting taller any more.  What happens then?

Wren:  You just get older and older and older and then......  I don't know.