I love to listen to my children play together. Tonight was no exception. As I cleared up the dishes from supper, I heard them chattering away in the boys’ bedroom.
Buddy (always in control): Okay, here’s how we’re going to play this. We are children, but our mommy is dead.
(I’m not sure I liked where this was heading.)
Bella: But our Gwamma is still yiving?
Bear: Grandma HAS to still be alive to take care of us.
(I think there’s hidden meaning in there somewhere considering how much their grandmothers have taken care of them recently.)
Buddy: Okay. Now we are going off to fight something.
Bella: What are we fighting, Asha?
Buddy: Anything we can find.
(Oh to be a boy.)
My oldest and youngest appeared laden with weapons, sneaking through the house. I heard Bear in the room still, sorting through stuff.
Bear: Here I am guys! (I honestly don’t know if they missed him.) I locked up the house and brought all our money that our dead mommy left us so no one would steal it.
(Where do they come up with this stuff?)
I finally turned around and said, “Hey, y’all. What are you playing?”
Buddy: Well, see, we are playing that we are fighting children whose mommy died. But it’s not you, it’s our pretend mommy, because, well, see, we could never live without you.
(I’m glad we cleared that one up.)
Bear: But Mommy? Do you have a lot of money you can give us just in case?
A Spring of Joy 
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