My seven-year-old, Dr. Jones, wanted to see where I work. So the other day I brought her to the hospital. We each got a strawberry frappuccino, sat by a beautiful wall fountain in the arched lobby, and watched the player piano, playing itself.
She suddenly snuggled into me, and looked up, petrified.
"Mama, this is a hospital?"
"A lot of sick people come here?"
"Yes," I replied.
"A lot of people die here?"
"Ummm, yeah, I guess so," I said.
She slowly turned to the player piano, still playing by itself. "Do they always come back to play the piano?"
I nearly spit out my frappuccino, laughing so hard.
Kids are darling.