Like Fame

Last week when we took the kids to Temple Square, William and I were walking back to the car hand in hand while Lily was on Matthew's shoulders. Will's really been into his birthday and different themes for the occasion. So while we were walking, he was telling me the different kinds of birthday parties he wants throughout his life. He went through the list almost without taking a breath. Golf. Wall-E. Thomas. Tom and Jerry. Dinosaur. And then, he just started saying things that he saw and said he wanted that kind of birthday. Temple. Window. Grass. Tree. Car. You get the picture. Finally, after his long list, he tells me, "I'm going to have lots of birthdays." To which I replied, "Yes you are. You will have a birthday every year until you die." He walked in silence for a second and then said, "But, mom, I'm not going to die." "What is he, Fame?" I thought. I chuckled a little at my cleverness and then, got serious and had a VERY short conversation with my invinsible son about death. Which, let's be honest, sounds a little morbid, but what can you do? It's unavoidable.