I Need to Know About These Things

At the family reunion this weekend, I somehow ended up being responsible for driving my nine-year-old niece from our campsite out in the woods to dinner in town. A few delays along the way made the trip about 20 minutes or so.

I was panicking about being alone with her for that long. She's a sweet little kid, but I'm terrified of children, which translates to anyone under the age of 25. I just don't know what to do, what to say, or how to act. I only have experience interacting with adults.

I'm mostly terrified of saying something terribly inappropriate or not protecting them from danger. Kids are a big responsibility and I don't think I'm old enough for that yet. With gray hair and bifocals, I *look* like I'm a responsible adult, but the truth is I'm not.

As we left the campsite, we passed a rather large country cemetery. Jen commented that it was amazing that so many people had died in one spot. Wouldn't they run out of room to bury them all?

Woo Hoo! Cemeteries, my favorite subject! I launched into a detailed explanation about cemeteries: public, private, and environmentally friendly ones; and the cost of funerals, caskets, and burial plots vs. cremation. That led to a discussion about how someone is cremated, embalming, ashes, urns, mausoleums, columbariums (a word I couldn't come up with at the time), and how a body gets nasty pretty quickly after death and has to be dealt with.

When she asked about cremation, my definition was, "They put you in a big oven and cook you up into about three pounds of ash, kinda like a pile of charcoal briquettes." Aw, Crap! I knew I had screwed up the minute it came out of my mouth. That's a terrible image to give to a kid her age. Comments like that are the reason I shouldn't be left alone with small children.

I said to her, "Ya know, since I don't have kids, I don't know if I should be telling you this stuff. Is it creeping you out to hear about dead people?"

She pondered for a second, then replied, "No, death is a part of life and I need to know about these things."

Whoa! I was blown away by such a mature response. I'm not sure this kid is just nine years old.

Then she asked, "What happens to your money when you die?"

Yep, she's a 45-year-old lawyer disguised as a short kid.

Well, she asked for it so I gave it to her; an overview of wills, estates, trusts, executors, probate, the whole nine yards. I explained most people leave their money to their children. If they don't have kids, they can leave it to the church, a charitable organization, or a sibling. She nodded occasionally and seemed to be absorbing it all.

When I finished her only comment was, "It's unusual that someone else does all the talking."

I think that was a very polite way of saying, "You're an old windbag."

Sigh.