"What do you mean?" I ask
"I don't want to fly around with wings and talk to God all the time. I want to play with my friends and watch movies and chew bubble gum." (watching movies and chewing bubble gum being two things Mommy doesn't let him do as often as he'd like)
"Well, honey, by the time you do die you may feel differently about that."
"When will I die, Mommy?"
"Not for a long, long, long time" I answer - "I hope," I add under my breath.
"But sometimes children die. Right Mommy? You told me."
"Yes honey, sometimes children do die."
"Where do they go?"
How to explain?
I'm not really sure where we go when we die, my sweet boy. According to our religion we believe "in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting." Does that mean we'll arise whole from our graves, as Jesus did from his tomb?
So instead I tell him:
"They go where God loves them and makes sure they're happy."
"Then you won't, honey. God won't make you do what you don't want in heaven."
"Will I go to hell?"
"Then where will I go?"
"You'll go where God needs you to be and where you want to be."
"You'd make a great guardian angel, I think."
"I'll have to tell God that's what I want."
"It's okay Mommy, I won't be dead for years and years. You'll be very sad when I die, won't you?"