In the long and storied history of my daughter saying morbid things, here is the latest (and I believe greatest) example. Behold, a story she was recently asked to write for school:
Basically, the text reads, “One day Mom and Dad and Zooey were in the yard. Dad buried Mom. Dad laughed. Zooey didn’t laugh.”
Yep, that’s ME buried in the ground with a tombstone that says, “Mom.” Zooey and Quigley have sad faces, because, obviously. And Nick is laughing, because he’s the only one who knows it’s a joke. (Zooey explained to me that I wasn’t REALLY dead, but pretending, which is . . . a little better I guess?) In case you’re wondering, the prompt she was given was, “Write a spooky story.” Her classmates were probably writing about black cats and vampires and pumpkins, but here is my kid, producing the kind of drawing they always use in horror movies to show that the demonic infestation has reached terrifyingly high levels. I should mention that she was super proud of this story. So as soon as I finished giggling, I gave her a high five and a hug. Because that story was AWESOMELY spooky.
Creepy kid drawings: it’s just nature’s way of asking, “Hey, how’s that exorcism coming along?”