They almost killed the babysitter! Part II

    This is a continuation from yesterday. Before moving forward, I need to tell you some things that make this story even funnier to me.
    The Scribe and the Hippie have modeled for over ten clothing companies. (My old company got their feet in the door.) Anyway, the Scribe's been on greeting cards--seriously. The kid is beautiful, but she has NO IDEA. Instead of acting like the gorgeous doll she is, the child insists on wearing "boy clothes." She'd rather play mud football than pose for a camera. She'd rather go hiking than shopping any day. She ALWAYS has her hair in a ponytail--"like a toughie," she says. I guess that's why she's just my style.
    I know it's terrible when she puts cat poop on the teacher's chair or pulls wild pranks. (Like the time she used the "heartbeat setting" on the sound machine and told a bunch of kids we had a "Tell Tale Heart" beating under our house.) But sometimes those silly moments bring so much joy (after I've calmed down). I know God gave me the Scribe first because she got me through even when Zeke died.

    Back to the story from yesterday. The Scribe is a goofball--a gorgeous goofball. And she uses her looks to her advantage. I think that's how she finally convinced me to let her quit the modeling business! Or why the teacher hardly believed she put cat poop on the chair!
    Anyway, the babysitter sprinted from the house, and when Cade and I walked downstairs, the kid's backs were to us. The lights were off and the Scribe held a flashlight which seemed to be under her chin. I was pretty upset at this point. Even if my kids make me giggle and smile; sometimes that doesn't happen for a few hours after they've upset me.
    The Scribe talked in that moment.
    "It's so SCARY because they went on the train proving that children . . . never . . . really . . . die!" The Scribe said ominously.
    "Woah." The Zombie Elf trembled. "That's a bad choo choo!"
    Not only had she impersonated the babysitter on the phone--now she was scaring the children right before bedtime?!
    "Wait," the Hippie said. "That doesn't make any sense."
    "Of course it does. Just think about it. Have you ever seen a dead kid?"
    "Well . . . no."
    "Have you ever seen a dead person at all?" the Scribe asked.
    "Yeah, great grandma."
    "But she wasn't really a dead person. She was our grandma.  Plus, she wasn't a kid since real kids don't die."
    "I think they can," the Hippie argued again.
    "But you've never seen one?"
    "I don't like dead people. It's not like I hang out at funerals just to see what's going on."
    "But you've thought about it."
    "No.  I haven't!" The Hippie seemed ruffled.
    "If you did hang out there, you'd understand something all adults know. Real kids can't die. Adults tell you they can, but really all they do is fake the funerals and then ship the kids off on a train."
    "Seriously?"
    The Scribe nodded.
    "But where does the train go?"
    "No one really knows."
    "Who drives the train?"
    "No one we can see."
    "That sounds lame. Why do the parents ship the kids off?"
    "Because they were bad--like the babysitter--or maybe they were extra cool . . . like Zeke."
    I don't know why, but at this point all of the anger evaporated from my body. I held Cade's hand and we kept listening.
    "Scribe.  I think everyone can die . . . even kids," the Hippie said.
    The Scribe finally talked again. "So what if everyone does die anyway? I don't think it's as bad as everyone says. Not all of Zeke died. For all we know, his spirit just took a ride to some amazing place."
    "A good choo choo train?" the Zombie Elf asked.
    "Scribe, we're good kids, right?  I mean, if you lined us up with all the kids at school, and put the best kids first, would we be first?"
    "It depends on who was judging us, but I think so," she said.
    "Then why's the babysitter acting so weird?  She'd put us at the end of the line."
    I realized at that point, they still thought the sitter was there.
    "Because some people know when they see awesomeness and other people can't even see it if they get surgery," I said and my kids turned to us. 
    "How long have you two been there?"  The Scribe seemed worried, shining the flashlight in our faces.   
    "Long enough."--that she'd dug herself out of trouble.  "So kids don't really die, huh?" I asked and turned on the lights.
   "Not really.  Maybe their bodies do, but their hearts and their spirits don't."
    I nodded.  And I'm still not sure why, but as we stayed in silence, a lump formed in my throat.
    "Zeke is still part of us . . ." the Scribe said more to herself than anyone.  "I tried telling the babysitter how kids don't really die, but she didn't want to listen. She freaked out and said 'dead is dead' and I'm weird."
    "She's the weird one," the Hippie said. "What kind of person screams when they see a little boy get naked?"
    "Well, he did try peeing on the tree," the Scribe said as the Hippie turned beet red.  
    "Mama, I did something terrible," the Hippie said after a moment.
    "What," I asked.
    "Well, I heard that girl being rude to the Scribe, so . . . I told the Zombie to pee on the tree."
    I bit my lip.  
    "And," the Scribe chimed in, "when you thought you were talking with the babysitter, you were really talking to me."
    Would they be in the front of the line?  Maybe if they were judged purely on repentance.  
    "Are you really mad?" the Hippie asked.
    Cade and I looked at each other and I found the thing about the tree so funny my eyes bulged from holding the laughter in.  Who cares if that sitter ran from the house; we didn't want her coming back anyway.  She said 'dead is dead' and screamed about pee--that's practically a crime where I come from.


    Later that night when Cade and I went to sleep, we had a good laugh.  "At least they know how to stick together."
    "And give their brother orders."
    "They're smarter than you'd guess," Cade said.
    "Yeah, no kidding.  That Scribe is smarter than some adults.  She's right, too.  Zeke will never be gone from my heart.  Not really."
    "You were right, too."  Cade smiled.  "Some people will never be able to see awesomeness.  I'm glad I'm not one of those people."
    "I'm glad I'm not one of them, too,"  I said and leaned in to kiss my husband. 


    For more info about Zeke and my book, my eBook is listed as 99 cents HERE on Smashwords and for kindle it's 2.99 HERE on Amazon from now until January 6th (the Epiphany), .