Here's a touching story:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/15/world/europe/15britain.html
Death is something I do not know how to explain to Peanut.
He used to think it was fun to be dead. And early this year (just before CNY to be exact. I was almost tempted not to do the CNY traditional visits with this as a valid excuse), it was a daily routine where he would go around 'shooting' with his toy gun and saying, "Die. Everybody die."
One night just before bed, he suddenly told me, "Summer's dad died." I was like stunned and silent for awhile; not knowing whether he really meant what he said or he meant it in pretend-play. You see, Summer is a classmate of his. I found out later from the teacher that sadly, it was a fact. It seemed to have bothered him. It is quite typical of Peanut to mull over something for a couple of days before he would find a way/time/place when you least expect it, to bring it up. Then I began to piece things together - no wonder he kept asking why Peter's (aka Spiderman) uncle died even though it was the umpteen time he was watching the movie. He must have been afraid that his dad or mama would die.
Oops, this is not meant to be a melodramatic entry.
On a brighter note, Sweet Potato too thinks it is fun to die. He would sprawl himself out flat on the sofa or on the floor and then exclaimed happily, "Die". Reminds me of the dog's trick of roll-over-and-play-dead.
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