Our Bird Is Dead

Gabby was in the preschool at Christ Lutheran School, and her classroom had a caged parakeet. One day Gabby told me that their bird was dead. Since she was only three years old at the time, I didn’t think she knew what that meant, so I asked her about it:

Me: What do you mean, dead?
Gabby: I mean, the bird died.
Me: But what do you mean when you say that it died?
Gabby: It began to stink, so my teacher had to put it in a box and bury it.

Oh. I guess she knew what she was talking about after all.

The Piano’s Broken

We got a used piano a few months ago. After we cleaned it and put it where we wanted it, I played a few short songs (poorly). Throughout the rest of the day, we’d occasionally hear one of the kids hitting a few keys and laughing.

Several hours later, Jake came up to me with some bad news:

Jake: Daddy, I think the piano’s broken.
Me, alarmed: Why? What happened?
Jake, upset: I pressed all the keys, but it didn’t make the right music come out.