A few years ago, the fact that I had the remains of my cat Jammer downstairs in my things came up in conversation. Girl-Child, about 6 at the time, was eager to see him. I tried to explain that I only had his ashes, and I even described that he was in a little box, but she didn't understand, I guess. She insisted she wanted to see him.
So I took her to my room and dug through my memorabilia trunk, and unearthed the 3x3x3 white cardboard box; opened it, and showed her the plastic baggy with gray ashes in it. Gently.
She recoiled, and sat in silence for a minute or two, contemplating. Then she said, "When I grow up and my pets die, I'm not going to burn them. I'm going to have them stuffed."
[By the way, reports are that we will have a Bee-Child (girl) and a Ghoul-Child (boy) parading the streets Halloween night in Boise. Mater Familias is visiting them and hopes to enjoy the spectacle. I hope to have photos to blog on Sunday, hint hint.]
2 comments:
That is wonderful!
A sometime commenter on this page (who shall remain nameless) visited the British Museum at the age of 4 or 5 and was very impressed by all the wonderful mummies.
Leaving the museum, she walked quietly between her parents, holding their hands, apparently deep in thought.
As they reached their car, she looked up and announced that when she got old and died she didn't want to be buried or burned up. She wanted to be a mummy in the British Museum.
Her doting (though deceitful) parents promised her that they would make sure this happened. She was pleased and comforted.
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