Yesterday, as we were driving, I commenting on how beautiful the mountains were. The sky was clear and it has been cold, so the mountains have a lovely layer of snow and they just looked completely marvelous!
You remarked, "They ARE beautiful. Do you know they are graves?"
Um. What?
"It's true," you continued. "The good people are buried there."
Um. What?!
You began to tell me the good people are buried at the mountains and bad people are buried in graveyards and that's why there are scary ghosts there.
I explained that that is not the case and that we buried people in grave yards because... well I'm not sure why, but it doesn't have to do with good or bad and why would all ghosts be bad when not all people are bad?
Then you thought for a moment, and I'm pretty sure you were playing with me, based on your nearly 2 year old comments about how you and your cousins made the mountains.
"Mummy, I mean the good people from before there were dinosaurs and cavemen."
Kid, sometimes you freak me out. You come up with these things and it makes me wonder if you're remembering things from before you were born, from before we started tracking time, from before the beginning.
I will now forever see the mountains and think two things; one, you and your cousins made the mountains before you were born and two, the mountains are the graves of the gods.
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