
While making my bed this morning, my 5 year old was laying on the floor, rolling around and thinking, apparently, because here’s a snippet of our conversation:
#3 when I am resurrected, will I still be mean to people?
me: you don’t want to be mean to people, right? Sometimes you just can’t help it?
#3: right.
me: well, if you are working on it, and you are trying to be nice to people, then I bet you can get it all figured out in this lifetime, sweetie.
#3:
you haven’t gotten it figured out yet.
me: well, I’m not dead yet.
Later: I walk outside to get something and 4 girls are playing on the hammock. She falls off the back side while in mid swing, and I stop to listen if she is hurt, but instead she gives a little chuckle and says, “Well, I guess it serves me right after pushing Gillie off!”