I was hazily involved as a spectator in a conversation between wifey and the boy at around 2am on Monday night/Tuesday morning. I’d come up to bed later than normal (it was nearly 11pm, and no I hadn’t turned into a pumpkin), to find the lad fast asleep but utterly clamped to his sleeping mummy. He was so clamped, I had my pillow all to myself and no sharp toenails digging into me either.
I drifted off to sleep, only to surface a bit at around 2am. I heard M’laddo whisper in that special sort of whisper that’s louder than talking (he’s inherited that one from me), “Why do people have to die Mummy?” The asking of difficult questions in the middle of the night is definitely something he’s inherited from his Mum- a few weeks ago she woke me up at 3am to see if I’d MOT’d my car. He really is a blend of the two of us.
Wifey gave such a lovely patient answer, if I’d have been more awake I would have written it down. But I didn’t and the sleepy elegance of it is now lost to me. I do remember however she managed to find out that the thing that had sent him on this line of questioning was Toy Story 3, more specifically the cymbal clapping monkey, which he decided had died in the film. I remember seeing the monkey in question but was too caught up in having a sort of internal fit that it had cost the two of us £25 to see the film with meager refreshments, to remember what became of him. Even so, it was months ago we saw the film and I really hope the little fella hasn’t been contemplating death (by monkey or otherwise) ever since.