An overdue account of some moments I've been jotting down for the last few months.
“We’re not going on a bear hunt again,” I conclude.
Driving to Tae Kwon Do, we pass an old cemetery. O. must have noticed this each time and had some thoughts about it.
O. "Isn't it weird to think about people being buried in the ground? I mean, what if you died with your mouth open, and then it got filled up with dirt. Then if you were just, say, planting flowers in the graveyard, you could actually be digging into someone's throat!"
Me: "Oh really? Why not?"
O. "Well, for one thing, I wouldn't want to hang around them, because they wouldn't have anybody for me to play with. But also, if they don't have kids, well, that's the end of their family. For all these years, that family has been going on and on. And then they don't have kids. Boom. That family is done."
A Little Young to be Realizing This
Every Other Second, It Seems