My son ask me a simple question.
"Mom how old is your grandpa?"
I learned that there wasn't a simple answer.
"He was 93 when he died. He was nearly 94."
"But how old is he?"
"Roo, I just told you. He was 93 when he died."
"MOM! How old is he now?"
"Buddy. He was 93 when he died. He died, he doesn't age."
"But Mom. MOM. How old is he?"
Where in the world is this kid going? What does he want from me. I have no idea how old Grandpa is? Do we continue to age in our heavenly bodies? Not the way we age here or course but is there like some record of time passage?
so if he died in 1994, does that make him 16 in heavenly years? Is that puberty up there, is he growing his wings?
I finally had to tell Roo that I was done taking questions. I obviously did not have the answer he was looking for. He gets frustrated with us. The other night he was telling us his (made-up) soccer teams names. One was called the Chicago Freeze. Rob and I smiled at how clever he was.
"Good one buddy, a take on the windy city the FREEZE. I like it."
"No Dad not the freeze, the frEEZE."
"Yeah, that's what I said Freeze."
"NO! DAD! Not the freeze the frEEze!"
"You mean F-R-E-E-S?"
Rob and I were looking at one other.
"Uh huh. Freeze. F-r-e-e-z-e?"
"NO! the one-two-freeze!" he even used his fingers to count with.
Rob and I burst out laughing, he meant the Chicago THRees and couldn't say THR, it came out FR. This made him run off and slam the door on us. Which I'm ashamed to admit only made us laugh harder. The kid takes himself far too seriously. (Not sure where that comes from.)
When he finally came out of his room Rob tried to get him to practise his T-H sounds. Now we just have to work on getting him not to spit when he makes the sound!