Driving from our home to visit the Grandparents, we passed a cemetery.

One of my 5-year-old twin daughters announced:

“Mummy, that’s where dead people live, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s right sweetheart,” I reply.

“People grow old and then then die, don’t they, Mummy?”

“Yes, that’s right,” I reply.

“And then they get buried,” my other daughter adds.

“Yes, that’s right,” I respond.

“Will we still be alive when you die, Mummy?” asks the first daughter, sweetly.

“Yes, you will be,” I reply.

“What age will we be?”

“I don’t know!”

“Will we be old?”

“I hope so, yes!”

“I think we’ll be the age you are now, Mummy!” The first daughter announces.

“Yeah! I think you’re right! I think we’ll be that age,” agrees her twin sister.

“No, no!” I choke, mentally calculating that it would make me just 69 years old, “I think you’ll be much older than that!”

“No, I think we’ll just be the age you are now!” my daughter insists.

Submitted by Annette

Conversation between my friend’s son and his playdate:

Isobel: “Sam, do you know how they took out people’s brains to make them a mummy?”

Sam: “Yeah, with a big hook through their noses, isn’t that cool?”

Isobel: “Yeah. My mom told Lucy that if she keeps picking her nose, she’ll pull out her brains.”