Last night, while eating dinner, we were talking to Trenton about going to the funeral home. Of course, we fielded the usual questions, "Why did she die?" and so forth. Then, out of the blue, he looks at me and says, "I want to go to heaven."
"What?" I asked.
"I want to go to heaven."
"Well, I want you to go to heaven," I stated, trying not to sound dumbfounded, "It's a good place to go."
"But don't go today," Matt interjected.
"Why?" Trenton asked.
"Well, we like having you around here and..."
"But you can go with me."
Case closed, no need to argue. Trenton had figured it all out already.
I nearly cried. So sweet. I love my boys.