Then You Die. (a rerun)

One December day twenty-some years ago I was making gingerbread cookies with my children. We sat around the table in the kitchen of our tiny little house. I have a great picture of Youngest Son's gingerbread cookie, as he proudly holds it up for the camera. It is solid white.

While I was cleaning up the kitchen, Youngest Son was calmly sitting at the table, putting the finishing touches on his 'man'.

Out of the blue he asked me "What happens when you run out of days?"

"Huh?"

"What happens when you run out of days?"

"What do you mean, 'run out of day?'"

"You know, when there are no more days, then what happens?"

I was busy, you know. Cleaning up one mess to get ready for another one to start. I didn't have a clue what he was talking about, so I answered very matter of factly,

"When you run out of days, then you die."

He seemed very satisfied with that response, and ran off to join Oldest Son and Daughter in some other sort of holiday shananagans.

A few weeks later, he very calmly announced at the dinner table that we were all going to die soon.

"Oh, really? How do you know that?" I asked.

"Well, look!" He said, as he turned around in his chair and lifted up the December page of the calendar. "We are almost out of days!"

Hmmm...

When you run out of days, you go buy a new calendar.