I am often criticized, mostly by well-meaning people, for being too honest with my children. Specifically, of course, my child who asks pointed and regularly difficult questions. I should keep a list of my favorites. And maybe a list of my answers, so that one day, when I am an old and wise mother instead of a young and naive one, I'll be able to offer well-meaning, unsolicited advice to young and naive mothers about how to answer the questions their children ask.
Maybe I shouldn't be such a sarcastic person.
Anyway....
I usually welcome - or at least deal with - Ada Brooks's questions. Who made God? Why can't we take communion in the catholic church if we are all Christians? Why do I have friends who aren't baptized? Why are there animals at CARA (the animal shelter)? Where were you when you got pregnant with Eason? Are your bosoms heavy? If you don't put koolaid in my lunch because you love me, does that mean that my friends whose mothers do put koolaid in their lunch are not loved by their mothers? How much money do we have? Why don't you like princess things? What is war? What do people mean when they talk about 9/11? Where is my biological father now? Do I weigh more than a penguin?
For the curious, the answer to the last one is that she weighs more than some kinds and less than others.
But I do not want to answer any questions about George Tiller. So, if you run into Ada Brooks, don't fill her in. I've kept NPR off of the radio and been thankful for the lack of tv over the last two days. I'm putting a bubble around her. I'm not ready for any of those questions. Because, really, what are the answers? Who shoots a person in church? Who terminates pregnancies of people who are as pregnant as I am?
I have no idea, Ada Brooks. That's what I'd have to say. I am for always being honest with your children. Except about Santa Claus. Although I often falter on that one (mainly because I want credit for the presents, not out of a conscience issue).
I can be honest about sex (often vague, but honest - 'i think i was in oxford when i got pregnant with eason'). I can be honest about animal cruelty (not specific, but honest - 'some bad people are ugly to animals'). I can even be honest about my bosoms (or slightly cryptic - 'heavy? depends on to what you compare them...').
But, I cannot be honest, I don't think, about a late term abortionist who was gunned down in his church on a Sunday morning. Yes, sweetheart, someone shot him to death. Yes, darling, in church. Yes, at the same time we were taking communion Sunday morning. Why? Well, he terminated pregnancies. Oh, what does that mean? The list goes on and on.
So, here at 4056 Redwing Avenue, we're sticking our heads in the sand.
I hope Ada Brooks learns about George Tiller for the first time when she's playing Trivial Pursuit, the 2020 edition, in her college apartment at 2 oclock in the morning. I hope someone makes fun of her for not knowing about this major news event. I hope she's embarassed. Because I pray I'm not the one who has to tell her.
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