Yesterday in the car son 2 started quizzing me about death. I’d mentioned that our milkman had died and so it got him thinking. The questions went:
“Is Daddy going to die” No, don’t say that. “if Daddy dies, do I get a new daddy” me – No of course not (well unless Rupert Perry-Jones, guy out Spooks comes calling!). This then went onto a very confusing conversation about hubbie’s Stepdad not being his real Dad as his Dad had died. This obviously really confused him, next question: “So when is Daddy’s Daddy coming to see us” me – he can’t as he’s dead. “So where is he”. Now, big philosophical discussion on my part about heaven and where some people believe it is etc (a bit like my mantra on feminimism to my 3 boys and how women can do anything a man can). Then, 5 minutes later “So Daddy’s dead then” me – No he’s at work. “Is he dead but coming home later” me – no, he’s not dead (getting annoyed now) he’s at work and will be home at bedtime. “Is daddy dead?” me – no the milkman is dead. How I wish I never started that conversation!!
2 comments:
oh gosh. I dread these conversations. I am still maintaing that the cat got sick and went out the door and didn't come back - I can't say it's dead!
ps. I've tagged you on my blog. You'll have to check it out.
Hi Gemma,
I hate these conversations, read the one on the birds and the bees. http://diaryofditzymummy.blogspot.com/2010/09/oh-lies-i-tell.html
Thanks for the tag I need to do a post with my favourite blogs.
xx
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