I love conversations with five-year-olds. They are sweet, unpredictable, often hilarious, and sometimes profound.
Last week a childhood friend's father died very tragically. I was getting ready to go to their house and Owen asked me why. I explained to her that when people die, friends go see them to hug them, cry with them, take them food, and try to comfort them.
I told her that my friend and her sister and their mom were very very sad. But we knew that their daddy was in Heaven. Very matter-of-factly she replied, "Well, Heaven's gooder than THIS place." Yes, it is baby. Yes it is.
On a lighter note, we were leaving church the other day and she said, "Daddy...here's my booger." As I passed her a tissue, Steve asked her what she typically did with those. Her answer: " Well when I was three I used to eat them but not anymore." What a relief.