911...again

So awhile back I wrote this post and totally forgot about it until my friend reminded me yesterday. (Don't even get me started on my memory problems.)

Anyway, a few days ago, the boys were kind of being monkeys and I was kind of tired of it. So I laid down on the floor, like a good mommy, and pretended to be asleep. I was totally just goofing around with them, and was a little shocked by what happened next.

So I was laying there on the floor with my eyes closed, and Diego was getting annoyed with me. He was like, "Mooooommmmmyyyyyy. Wake up!!" in this tone like, "Enough already." He said it a couple of times and I kept my eyes squeezed shut. Celo was nearby and flatly said, "I think she's dead." Pause. "Do you want to play trains?"

WHAT? I opened my eyes and said, "Celo!! Did you really think I was dead?" He laughed and said, "Yeah." I said, "Weren't you sad?" He thought about it for a second, trying to figure out how to respond, and finally said, "I was starting to be." Liar. Testing them, I asked them why they didn't call 911. They said that they didn't know how, so we had a little refresher course in case of emergency. I also took the opportunity to explain death a little more, since Celo obviously thought it was no biggie. I wasn't prepared for how hard it hit Diego. He was under the impression that if someone dies, they go to heaven for awhile, but then they come back. Because, hello, babies come from heaven, so people eventually come back from heaven right? When I broke the news that when you die, you don't come back, it seemed to really click. With tears in his eyes and his lips quivering, he expressed his greatest fear: "But Mommy....if you die....who will m..m..make us dinner?? When Daddy makes dinner he always makes the same thing!"

Glad to know I'd be missed.