Tommy: Maggie, what do you know about me?
Maggie: I know you love minecraft. I know you like to be on the iPad every day. I know you hate it when I bother you. I know you don’t wash your armpits.
Tommy: One of those things isn’t true…sometimes when you bother me I kind of want you to. STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!
Maggie has hit that most wonderful of developmental phases: death questions. Tonight she was thinking or our friend Leslie who died a few months ago at the age of 21.
“What happens when people die when they aren’t supposed to [like leslie]? How do they get to heaven? Right away? She just spawned there? Is she in Bible stories? Will they write a new bible story about her? Will they give her a house? Will Jesus give her food?”
I asked if she was worried about these thoughts of dying. She said “No. When it’s time for me to die I will be ready. This probably worries Tommy, right? He’s scared of more things than me. Girls are not scared of as much.”
Maggie: Princesses like to be polite and take dirty things. Princesses are always happy.
Me: Your tummy hasn’t been hurting as much has it?
Maggie: Well, yes. Sometimes I just let it hurt and play through the pain.
Maggie on the importance of choosing a boyfriend carefully: Yeah, I may give them a test.
Tommy facing an unpleasant task: Well actually I’m happy to do it right now. Like I always say, ‘The first the better.’ Well no, I never actually said that before. That doesn’t make sense.
Maggie: I’ve liked Disney princesses all my life ever since I been living with you.
Tommy, looking at some beginning reader books: They look like teenagers. . . But they talk like 3 year olds.
Maggie: Daddy told me something: Swans are very beautiful but hurtful.
Tommy: what? What? Oh swans? I thought you said blondes.
Maggie: So when we were in our mommy’s tummy that’s when we were created? First our bones, then the slimy stuff, then our skin and our little fingers? Daddy, how did mommy get pregnant? Oh I know. The baby just comes down from heaven and gets in her tummy.