Straight Talk About Death. Chard In My Son's Sandwich, Not So Much.

Our friend Tom came by this morning to help create a guest room/rec room in the basement. He arrived just after my 13-year-old son Zack had asked whether there would be enough money available whenever I might die for Sadie to be able to continue her raw food diet as he wasn't sure he'd be able to make enough money working at Tim Horton's to pay for her food. I was just reassuring him when Tom walked in the room and I filled him in on the topic of conversation.

Tom said something like: "Wow, I'm a bit startled that you guys are talking about you dying in that way but I think that it's great." I responded by saying that I figure that dying is a part of living and then the kids and I started cracking wise with our pet-peeve euphemisms...I said that I certainly had no plans to get "lost" or "pass away." That I would just die. Be dead.

The pre-school bustle continued and I began to make Zack a sandwich while Charlotte, his 11-year-old sister, grumbled that she didn't understand why she had to make her own lunch. Right or wrong, it has something to do with the fact that Zack generally wouldn't take the time and would starve or eat junk food if I didn't. But I digress.

Tom sat at a kitchen stool while I sliced a large piece of focaccia, smeared mayo on one side and mustard on the other, lay down organic turkey, then sliced tomatoes and then ruby chard and began to wrap it up. "I'm impressed Zack!" commented Tom on observing me put chard into my teenage son's sandwich. I desperately tried to catch Tom's eye to cease and desist but it was too late.

"What!" exclaimed Zack. "You put chard in my sandwich! Oh my God Mom!" his eyes rolling around and practically popping out of his head and onto the kitchen floor. Tom made an earnest attempt to mitigate the damage but finally gave up, commenting that given how forthcoming I was about death and dying it hadn't occurred to him that I might surreptitiously be sneaking extra nutrients into my son's lunch. "That's because your child is still three months away from being born," I replied.

Straight talk about death. Chard in Zack's sandwich, not so much.