“Mamaaaaa.” I jolt awake to Little Man crying. I rush into his room like lightning. He's sitting up in bed, wide-eyed. I rub his back gently. “What's wrong, buddy?” “Spiders came into my room.” “Spiders?” I ask, surprised. "That's not possible." Little Man looks at me puzzled. "Why not?" "Because it says on the door: no spiders allowed." "But…" Ah, the children's questions have begun again 😉.
There's a brief silence as he ponders in his upstairs room. “How do they know?” “Because spiders can read.” “But…how?” “They just can. Now let's get back to sleep. Roll over." I tuck him in snugly, dim the light, and slip out. "Truste," I hear him mumble softly.
A flu epidemic hits hard, and I'm laid up in bed with a high fever. “Mommy, why are you sick?” Good question.
"Are you going to die, Mom?" "No, it's just the flu. I'll be better in a few days." "But... the mom of the others died, right?"
Oof. "Yes, sweetie, but she had a different illness. She was very sick and couldn't recover." "Why not?" "Because… even adults don't always know. She had something no medicine could fix." "What was it?"
Why these heavy children's questions?
“She was so ill no doctor could help her.” “But Mom?” “Yeah?”
What now?
"We're not going to die, right? You and I never die?" “Everyone dies eventually, you and me too. But hopefully not for a very, very long time.” “Why…” “How about we talk about something fun now?"
“I have to poop.” Why now? I think, but I sit up. Little Man dashes to the toilet, stripping off his clothes. “Why do you always take everything off to poop?” I ask, exasperated. "I just like it that way. Now close the door."
He settles in comfortably while I check my phone. Then I hear him muttering softly. I creep to the door and crack it open. A deep sigh. This one's a struggle.
"Will she be able to talk to the moles too?" Is he imagining the dead chat with moles? How do I explain? Another sigh and groan—the deed is progressing. "I'm going to ask where heaven is later," he mumbles.
Yes, and then he'll grill me on why it's called heaven. Do I even know?!
Little Man washes up after his big job and barrels toward me. Here it comes... my head's pounding.
“Mom, we're getting married later, right?” “Of course,” I say firmly. Topic change success! "But school says you can't marry two people. You're married to Daddy. Why can't you marry me now?" "I checked with the boss of the country, and it's okay."
"Who's the boss?" "The King." "King Willem-Alexander?" "Yes." "Isn't it Jesus?" "No, definitely not." "But…" Gears turning again. “Jesus died too, right?”
Round two.
"Jesus rises again at Easter." "How?" I wonder too. “Who killed him?" Nooo! “Where'd you learn that?" “School."
Who, what, where, and why? Time to chat with the teacher.
With a deep sigh, I collapse into the pillows. I feel half-dead, but I'll be revived in a week. How? By some peace and quiet.
-x-
Ievy
