The other day. Driving to football practice.
Son: “You’ll pick me up right?”
Me: “Of course.”
Son: “You won’t forget?”
Me: “Of course not. I would never not be there.”
Son: “Why not?”
Me: “Because I’d never leave you.” (please know that I know how completely wrong it is of me to promise something to my son that the delivery of which I might not have complete control over)
Son: “You mean, you won’t leave me until the end.”
Me: “What do you mean?”
Son: “You know. The end.”
Me: [internally] “Eff.” [verbally] “What do you mean ‘the end?'”
Son: “You know.”
Son: “When you get very old and die. Then you’ll leave me.”
Me: “Uh. Right. But that is a very very very long way away, so you don’t need to worry about that.”
Son: “And someday when you die and Daddy dies and sis dies and I die, we’ll all be together again.”
Me: “LOOK! A FLYING POLKA-DOTTED ELEPHANT!”
I have discovered that the whole death thing is nowhere to be found in the user manual they give you when you have kids.
Come to think of it, there IS no user manual.
Someone ought to fix that.
Please include a chapter called, ‘Things to say to distract your inquisitive child as you drive past a cemetery.”