The other day, Dylan said to me, “Six years ago I was dead.” We were at the gas station. I was pumping gas, and Dylan and Riley were hanging out the window.
I replied, “No, you weren’t dead. You just weren’t born yet.”
Then he said, “I was dead when I was in your belly.”
I replied, “No, you weren’t. You were growing inside of me.”
Then he said, “Look, I’m dead,” and his body went limp.
Then Riley said, “Look, I’m dead, too,” and he went limp next to his brother.
“Neither of you are dead,” I said.
Then Dylan said, “Two years ago I was dead and now I’m back.”
After that zinger, I changed the subject.
The ease with which my kids talk about, think about, and imitate death astounds me. Equally surprising is the ease with which I talk about it with them. Dylan has, on…
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