Squirrels, and also the apocalypse.

I'm walking Henry and his friend Luca to Luca's house. They've been playdating over at our place for the past two hours, but I managed to bore them until they decided that Luca's was more fun. "If you say so," I sighed, and cackled silently to myself.

On the way to Luca's we're talking about the dead squirrel. The dead squirrel has been a topic of conversation for the past week or so. It's lying at the bottom of a sewer grate next to Luca's house, and Henry and his friends can't get enough of it. There can never been too much dead squirrel, apparently, in the mind of the almost-six-year-old. I have not seen the dead squirrel yet, and Henry is talking it up.

"Mom, you finally get to see the dead squirrel," Henry tells me. It's like Christmas in September!

"Henry, I don’t want to see the dead squirrel," I say. Luca stares at me in amazement. Not want to see a dead squirrel? What kind of machine am I?

"It's been dead for a while," Henry says. "It's not like a squirrel anymore, but like the outline of a squirrel."

"Wow, that's really not making me want to see it."

"No, it's cool. It's all sort of curled up."

"It doesn't look dead," Luca observes, and Henry agrees. "It looks like it's pretending to be dead."

"I'm just not into seeing dead things, is all."

"It just has this cut on it, and these swipes of white across it." The way Henry says "swipes" while sweeping his hand across his body is both sort of adorable and also really gruesome. I hope he's talking about the squirrel's fur, and not some kind of putrefaction.

"Mom, really, it's no problem. Just look at it."

We are now on top of the sewer grate. The kids peer in. I can't see anything. The way the light is angled so that I can pretend to look, but in fact I can see nothing.

"Was that cool?" Henry asks me, once we're done.

"I don't know, Henry, I like squirrels," I say, which isn't exactly true, "I don't want to see one that's dead."

"Mom, you don't have to worry about that squirrel." He pauses. "You should worry about all the other squirrels."

Luca asks, "Why does your mom have to worry about the squirrels?" Now Luca's looking a tad concerned.

Henry looks at his friend. "Luca. The world is going to end. Did you know that?" Uh-oh. Poor Luca, I think.

Luca is now gaping at Henry.

"The world had a beginning, so it has to have an end. Everything with a beginning has to end."

He got this from his father, by the way. Or possibly me. At any rate he didn't come up with it on his own. Just so you know.

"Everything has a beginning and an end," Henry says, "Unless it's infinity."

"What's infinity?" Luca asks. Henry tells him, in great (and somewhat incoherent) detail. Luca looks around him, as if the world doesn't make any sense anymore. You think you're just going to enjoy a little dead squirrel, and the next thing you know your entire worldview is being shattered. The poor kid had no idea what he was getting himself into, asking for a playdate with my son.

Comments

[Nicole]

It never fails to surprise me how un-sentimental kids are, at least at this age. My almost-five-year-old son is all about wanting to know what kind of animal went into our sausage or where the head went on the roasted chicken, while I am busy retching into my hand at the mere mention.

[Emily]

Henry is such an old soul. He's like this really wise man combined with a seven-year-old. And that? Well, that just makes for the most awesome conversations.

[You can call me, 'Sir']

OK, so here's what you do:

Give Henry a crash course on the theory of evolution, then put him into a room with a bunch of hardcore creationists.

Record it. Post it on YouTube. Win.

[fred]

God that was an awesome post.

"You think you're just going to enjoy a little dead squirrel, and the next thing you know your entire worldview is being shattered"

In reference to the post on the 1st, you might think you aren't a great writer at times, but the rest of us never had any doubt.

[suburbancorrespondent]

I feel sorry for Luca's parents, who will probably be woken up by a child having nightmares for at least the next month or so.

[HeyJoe]

Dear Henry,

What is this talk of the world ending? If it ends, where will WE go? How does a "world" end??

I would like some answers please and I would prefer that you not ask your mother because she lies to me. She once told me that there was candy at the bottom of a cliff. Has she ever used that one on you? I'll be she has.

Anxiously,Joe

[Jen]

maaaan...i can't wait for five! :D

[hikooky]

Hilarious. Don't you love listening to kids really telling each other how it is? They can be so emphatic and confident in their (wonky) connections and conclusions. I find this one of the truest joys in my life right now: listening to my children reveal the mysteries of life to each other. I find it so painfully brilliant (and wonky) and sweet, I kind of don't want it to end... Ah, innocence.

[ExSchutz]

Oh my goodness, I am laughing so hard! Thanks as well for the last post about writing. It is such a relief to hear that you're not giving up!

[Pretty Jane]

That Henry, he makes me feel happy on the inside. Yum.

[Heather]

Poor Luca. Did he ever really recover from the end of the world speach?? LOL!! :-)

[Mauigirl]

This was great! I can see it now.

Reminds me of when I was a little older than Henry and also apparently an "old soul." I spent much of my time at age 9 contemplating the fact that one day I wouldn't be here to experience the world, and if so, how can that be? It made my brain hurt, because I only had my own perception of the world, and if I were gone, where did the world go? I also got really worried about the Chinese getting the hydrogen bomb. I was a trial to my parents...

[Robin]

The title is most perfect. I love the child brain. Awesome.

[Jen]

Who knew a playdate could be so existential?

[Alison]

Thanks for making my day with the word 'putrefaction'.

!

[Sonja]

The squirrels in my yard find this post in very bad taste indeed.

[aubrey cece]

luca hasn't lost too much sleep over it...however he did ask about infinity again! haha! maybe we can show you the dead bird on the way to school to keep the fun going ;)

[mrsmouthy]

If you really want to blow your son's mind, give him a circle and ask him to find the beginning and the end. Huh.

[Mary Anne]

I love this. I have two kids. The first, Mr C...9...very deep thinker with words today like massive overcrowding and mob mentality. The second? Miss G...6...enjoys standing on her head for long periods of time which explains so much about the things we hear from her. Henry is lucky to have you recounting all this for him to look back on someday, your writing is amazing.

[Wendy]

I'm so glad to know that my just-turned-6 year old isn't the only boy fascinated with dead things and mortality. He's school-mates don't seem to really get him, though. I think, like Henry, he's older than his years. Congratz on having a kid that can explain infinity and that the world will end!

[The Yummy Mummy Cooks Gourmet]

Wow. Your play dates are really deep...

The obsession with dead things is kinda freaky but then, I have little girls. Unless the dead squirrel is wearing a pink tutu and carry a princess wand, it wouldn't even get a second look at my house.

Kim

[sarah]

yea, count me out for playdates, eh?

[Anne]

What Fred said (on September 04, 2008 at 12:37 PM). Superb.

[jaelithe]

Oh Goodness. My son is going to be that sort of philosopher-child, too.

The other day he asked me quite earnestly where he was before he was born. "In my belly," I said. "No," he said. "I know THAT. I mean before I was in your belly where was I?"

And how was I supposed to answer that?

[erin]

From the mouths of babes, huh?

This is awesome. You should teach him about the Big Bang Theory next.