Me: Get in bed...time to sleep.
Sam: I don't want to sleep.
Me: But you need your sleep to grow up strong and healthy.
Sam: I don't want to grow up.
Me: Why not?
Sam: Because then I'll get old and die. (crying and covers pulling up over his head)
Me: Who told you that?
Sam: I heard you saying you get old and then die.
Me: Let me tell ya something...my grandma was 89 when she died. You're four. That means she lived another 85 years after being four. You've got a long long time before you have to even think about dying. Besides, when you get older you get to do all sorts of fun things.
The conversation then shifted to all the possibilities for what Sam could do when he grows up.
Yeah...I haven't screwed this kid up AT ALL.
The worse part is that I don't remember talking about dying AT ALL. And Sam is currently at the point in his ability to tell time where everything happened "last week" or "last morning." We don't talk about dying. Sam has, on occasion, acknowledged that his brothers died and went to be angels...but that's it as far as the death talk in our house as far as I remember.
I want my old life back.