Thursday, April 24, 2008

"Where Da Mice Go??" A lesson in death.

Big opened our day today by asking me this very question. I froze. How do you explain death to a 2 year old?! My "thinking on my feet" decision: you don't. The conversation went something like this:

Big: Where da mice go Mommy?

Me: Uhhhhhhh...

Hubby: (chimes in to save me) The mice had to go away!

Big: Why??

Me: He got an owie. (sorry that I said it before the words even came out of my mouth)

Big: An owie?? WHY?! (now she's worried)

Hubby: (following my lead) Ya see, Big...the mouse got a really bad owie, and...

(he sees me giving him the "don't finish that sentence" eye...and immediately stops in his tracks)

Hubby: He had to leave to go to the doctor to get all fixed up!

Me: YEAH! (whew!)

Big: Oh! To da doctor?

Me and Hubby: yes! (lots of affirmative nodding going on in unison)

(Big is now satisfied with our answer and walks out of the room. Crisis averted.)

Me: Dr. Can (as I throw a sideways glance to Hubby)

Me: (under my breath, but loud enough so that Hubby can hear me) First name Garbage.

Hubby: Yes, he's French...Dr. Garbage Can

And we cracked up together. I know, its not nice, and it was a little bit wrong...but darn it this parent stuff keeps you on your toes! You HAVE to find humor in life or you'll go crazy! We'll deal with death another day...hopefully not any day soon.

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