Mustangs

After school today I took the kids to get snowcones. G has had a rough week ever since his stomach flu this weekend. Today he was super clingy and just wanted to be held all day.

His teacher thought maybe it was about you? I don't know. There's no way to know at his age.

We were sitting outside of the snowcone stand, eating and talking. Then C said

Mom, where's dad?
What? What do you mean, honey? Daddy died.
Oh yeah, I forgot.
I didn't know if you meant is he in heaven, or is he in the cemetery, or what.
What is dad doing in heaven?
I don't know, I've never been there.
What does heaven look like?
Well, I think it looks like the most beautiful place you can imagine.
Like what?
Maybe some rolling hills, blue skies, a lake.
Oh yeah. What do you do in heaven?
I think you get to do the things you loved to do while you were living. Dad loved to go fishing, I bet he's fishing with his Grammy J.
Who else is he with?
I don't know, maybe my grandma is taking care of him too. Or my grandpa.
Did he know your grandpa?
Yeah, he met him.
How old was your grandpa when he died?
He was in his eighties.
How many eighties?
Eighty two.
Eight two or two eight?
Eight two.
Oh.

We're working on math.

G decided he wants pizza for dinner, he chose Dewey's.  As we walked down the driveway, I realized I'd left the garage door open. There, sitting in the shining fall sun, sits your red Mustang.

I told the boys maybe I'd try to drive it to dinner tonight.

You can't even drive that car, mom.
I bet I can. It's just a car.

Wish me luck, Neil. If I'm going to keep your old Mustang running for the next twenty years until one or both of the boys can take it, I'm going to have to drive it around.  Which pisses me off.

These days, everything pisses me off.