Let us pray

M has been hearing stuff about where you go when you die from her buddies at school.

"Dead things go to heaven, mama."

"Where did you hear that?" I asked, somewhat alarmed because I'm not prepared to talk about this WITH MY THREE-YEAR OLD!.

"Kelsey," who is a friend from school.

"Where is heaven?"

Long pause. . . "I don't know. I'll have to ask Kelsey. But Maxy dog is in doggy heaven."

"No, Maxy dog is dead and her body lies in a grave."

"What's a grave?"

Ugh. The conversation goes on and on. We're starting to work with her on determining what's real and what's make believe.

Then this morning just before we were getting ready to eat, M said that we had to put our hands together and say our phone number before we eat.

I did it because I was a little charmed. It's better than praying.