Jake's grandmother picks him up from school, so I think his mom is dead.
Hmmm. She probably just works.
No, I think she's dead. Maybe she was in the Army.
What happens in the Army?
Well. Sometimes you get really ill. Or people stab you.
Or you could get shot or something. Or just be really old. Like 98.
This is the conversation I had with my daughter yesterday after school. It was a pretty excellent tête-à-tête, and after a long laugh over the unique decoding process of her methodical little mind, I came to the somber realization that my kid has somehow decided if a mother isn't around every second of the day, then the only logical conclusion is that she's dead.
I clearly need to get a hobby. I also probably need to explain to her how the Army works.
But, back to the former. Is this really the message I want to send my little girl? That my only purpose in life is to be her mom? Don't get me wrong. I definitely define myself as a mother hen before all else -- it's just that I know I'm capable of so much more than tending flock.