Oh We're Back on That, Are We? Awesome.

Someone needs to give my daughter a refresher on driver safety. Specifically, she needs to understand that startling the driver isn't limited to sudden shrieks or throwing objects at the front seat. No indeed, talking like the freaky kid from The Sixth Sense is also on the list of Things Passengers Shouldn't Do If They Don't Want to Abruptly Land in the Christina River.

N with a dramatic sigh: Mommy, I really wish I could see your Dad.

C, trying not to roll eyes while changing lanes: I know, honey. I do, too.

N, snappish: Well, you already did! I didn't! I wish I could have a turn with him.

C, chastened: Yes, that would be nice for you.

J, ever the helpful one or buttinsky, depending on your point of view: Well, Nad, you've seen his pictures.

N: I KNOW THAT, JACK!!! I'm talking about IN REAL LIFE.

J: Oh, yeah. You haven't seen him like that.

Notice that Jack said nothing about wanting to see Dad/Gramps, too. I would have found this interesting if I hadn't been concentrating on the flow of traffic while trying to anticipate what The Madam would say next.

N: Your Dad loved you very much. He thought you were beautiful.

Wow, I don't know what I was expecting her to say but it certainly wasn't that. Where is THAT coming from? Dad, are you here in the van? Great, now I'm nervous because driving my Dad always made me nervous. He'd look all grim and snort impatiently when I'd make a move he didn't like which would lead to ever-increasing erratic driving.

Fantastic, I'm driving my ghost dad and my 3 children to Toys R Us. That so wasn't on the agenda when I got out of bed this morning.

If only she'd stopped there.

N: Your Dad loved you like your Mom does. She's going to die soon, too.

C: SHE IS??? WHAT???

N, sagely: Well, probably.

(Let's ignore that I asked her for confirmation. Please and thank you.)

Thankfully, we were off the interstate and almost at the store by the time she made that pronouncement. We sat in the car for a few minutes while Mommy composed herself.

Either I gave birth to a reincarnated sibyl from the oracle of Delphi or my 4 year old is cynical enough to think that since the rest of my beloved family is dead, it's only a matter of time before my mother joins them. Or maybe, just maybe, after all of our heart-to-hearts, my daughter still has no fricking fracking idea what "dead" really means.

I'm thinking (hoping!) it's the latter, both because I don't want my mother to die and because I don't want my little girl to be so jaded at such a young age.

*sigh* He did think I was beautiful. I wonder what he would think of me now?