On our way to the drive-thru bank, Silas spots Plums Cafe out the window: "I've never been to Plums before, Mommy."
"Yes, we went there on Easter, remember?"
"It still IS Easter!" (secret insistence that he should get more presents and candy).
"Nooo, Easter is only one day, and it was Sunday. It's the day we celebrate that we have LIFE, that God loves us so much, that Jesus Rose! We say, he is risen! he is risen indeed!" "What Risen mean?"
"To rise means to go up, so if Jesus is risen, that means Jesus went up -- Jesus went up into Heaven" (or at least up to God)
"Because he died"
"..." (I am not sure whether I have ever explicitly said that Jesus died) "Yes, he did die. And people were really sad. But then 3 days later they discovered that he wasn't dead any longer -- he had risen! And then his friends realized they didn't have to fear anymore, and we don't either. Jesus is with us. And we will go to heaven too."
"Mama, I don't want to go to heaven right now"
"oh- You don't have to."
"I just want to go home"
"Yes, me too. We are going home. Heaven is far far far in the future"
"When is it?"
"In 100 years. That's really long."
"You and daddy will go to heaven and I will stay here?" (I'm not sure what kind of question this is -- worried? scared? He's been having some mad separation anxiety lately, so I feel it out)
"Would you like that?"
"Yes I would. You and daddy go to heaven and I will stay with a babysitter"
A few minutes later I hear laughter in the backseat, the giggling laughter of a madman. I turn around to see Silas holding the one my-little-pony we own, trying to pull of her head. Unprecedented violence against the toys.
"What are you doing?" (I think it's a little funny, so I lay down no laws)
(through laughter) "I try to pull its head off!!!"
"Why?" (still waiting to see where this will go, knowing that I pulled the head off the one barbie I ever had -- that was more on principlem, though).
(still laughing) "Ella do this all the time!" (Ella his 4 year old cousin we just spent a with who could not have been pulling off pony heads because there were no ponies with us).
"She does? Did she tell you that?"
"No, Uncle Max tell me that." (ahhhhhhhhhh! my whole childhood is flashing before my eyes) "He say Ella ALWAYS do this" (more forced madman laughing and pulling).
I am wondering if this is true about Ella's pulling toys apart, but regardless, have no doubts now that Max is the one who's filled Silas's mind with headless ponies --- POP! -- I turn around to hysterical laughter and see Silas holding the peach pony head, amazed by such freedom.
Then we pull up to church where I have to drop off a check. I leave the car running with Silas and Eden inside and walk the 20 feet through the front door (which is propped open) to the desk. Mid-conversation with Gina, I hear the engine of my car shut off. I turn. Silas -- who apparently can unbuckle his seat belt and get out of his booster without a hitch AND who is wearing his neon green rash guard because he chose his outfit for school today -- is in the driver's seat busily adjusting the mirror and levers. He seems unbothered, and YET, the car is silenced. Unmoving (thankfully!) but silenced. I walk over, "I driving, Mommy!" He continues driving. "And I take the keys out!" he tells me matter-of-factly.