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It’s kind of neat to watch how, like most children, CJ absorbs things, if uncritically.
“I went home with a waitress, the way I always do!”
“What does ‘insider trading’ mean?”
“I smell something yummy!”
But one thing that she hasn’t picked up, yet, is swearing, despite my undisciplined mouth. (OK, wait for it, 4…3…2…1…huh. Nope, she didn’t swear. Weird.)
Somewhere on the Internet, there’s advice on what a parent should do when their child swears. I’m sure Becky knows what to do, she always does. As it is, I have difficulty dealing with the little things.
Yesterday, we drove by a synagogue that’s near my house, but not along our normal path of travels. CJ asked what it was, which of course, led to explaining what a synagogue is. “It’s like a church, only for Jews.” Which, of course, led to having to explain Jews and Christians, and then Muslims and Buddhists and Hindis.
“So they sing in the synagogue?” she asks, because she highly associates churches with singing.
“Yes,” I said.
Having explained the religions, I then felt compelled to explain atheism and agnosticism, with CJ nodding dutifully all along.
“Where do they sing?”
This weekend is going to be a bit harder. We’re attending Becky’s grandfather’s funeral. Not a close relative, but someone she sees about once a year and who she saw just a few weeks ago. We’ve tried to explain death, but it’s hard to know if we’ve really gotten through.
There’s a lot of “why?” going on, which is good, I guess. At first I thought that explaining a cremation was hard, but then I realized that burial probably doesn’t make much more sense to a 4-year-old. We long ago passed the “Are you and mommy going to die” stage, a prospect which she seemed to accept with great ease, which probably means we didn’t explain it correctly.
At least, I hope that that’s what it means.
