So a sad day on Liberty Street today: as we were walking to the playground (still kind of warm enough to do so!), we passed a dead squirrel in the road. As one would expect, this unleashed a torrent of questions.
Abby: Daddy, what's wrong that that squirrel?
Me (just now seeing it): Oh! Um...
Julia: Is him dead?
Me (surprised): Oh, well, um, yes. Yes he is. How did you...
A: Why is him dead?
J: Is him not talking?
Me: I think he got hit by a car.
A: Did him say, "Ow!"?
Me: Yes.
J: No, him didn't say "Ow!", Daddy.
A: Him doesn't speak Spanish.
Me: Well, you don't have to speak Spanish to...
A: Is him gonna sleep there?
J: I can't wait to tell Mama.
A (excited): Daddy! Daddy! I know! I bet Mama's car hit that squirrel and made him dead!
Me (picturing the wifey driving down Liberty Street, talking on the cell phone, listening to AM talk): Hmmmm....maybe. No, he isn't gonna sleep there. He's going to turn into an angel and go up into the sky.
J: No hims not, Daddy.
Me: Why?
J: Because he isn't a bird. Only birds go up into the sky!
A: Yeah! Dead birds!
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