So on our way to the Post Office and Bank this evening, we passed by this new memorial monument store where you purchase headstones. Dave stated that he would would like to be buried next to the stone sculpture of the grizzly bear, while I preferred the slouched over angel holding a marble heart (hopefully with my face etched into the stone). Quickly, as if on cue, Blake states, "I want the t!" Kind of like the day when I explained why we celebrate Easter, as Jesus died on the cross for our sins. "Like when Daddy has to say sorry to Mommy" I explained, and Blake asks, "So did Jesus say sorry for dying on the cross Mommy?" Goodness sakes. A cross, a T, there is no difference to a three year old.
