When I screw up, I do it royally. Tonight was a doozy. It all started innocently enough. My daughter had pretended to cut my hair. So I played along and then she commented that it would grow back anyway. I should have seen the danger signs, but I just agreed and kept getting her PJ's on. Then she asked, "Why does your hair grow back when it's short?"
Blithely I replied, "Because your body just grows and it's part of your body. And you know what's really cool? When you die..." Oops! I caught myself too late, and she heard it, dammit!
"When you die what?"
Ugh. Kicking myself, I finished the sentence. Maybe she would let it drop after that if I said it in a sufficiently that's-so-cool sort of tone. "When you die, your hair and nails keep growing for a while. Nuts, right?"
"Yeah!" Pause. "How do they come back?"
Damn. "Who?"
"People who die?"
Go ahead, slap me now. Now I've got a 4 1/2 year old freaking out about death. But I couldn't bring myself to lie about it either now that I had stepped so deeply in the mucky muck.
We went to read How the Grinch Stole Christmas (cheerful place, our home, isn't it?) and she seemed to have forgotten her gloom. But then she cornered my husband. When I went to see what was up, she started crying about how if I died she'd miss me and if she died she'd be someone else. Apparently he'd tried to comfort her with a cursory explanation of reincarnation. At least I am not alone in my stupidity.
Finally, she asked if dying was real. I didn't answer; I just looked at hubby. Of course she asked why I was looking at him. She's really too smart for her own good. Anyway, he did it! He told the lie! "No," he said, "It's not real. Nothing bad is going to happen, now go to sleep."
How many ways is this going to come back to bite us in the butt. I know it's not nearly over.
What a dope I am.
Friday, December 7, 2007
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