Setup: Ella(7.000. It's her birthday!) and Melanie(4.5 or "almost 5" if you hear her say it) have discovered a bird that flew into our window and now lays dead on our driveway.
[All said completely factually. No sorrow. Just the facts, ma'am.]
Melanie: The bird is cute... but he's dead.
Melanie: He should be in heaven... but he's in our hopscotch.
Melanie: I want to play hopscotch.
It was touch-and-go for a moment there. It had never really occurred to me that Melanie probably thinks her entire dog is in heaven. I'm not quite sure she'd grasp the concept of a soul yet.
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