I Survived the "Death Conversation"

I'm sitting at the breakfast table eating my Cheerios, enjoying the sludge of gossip in the NY Post's Page Six magazine, totally unprepared for the incoming conversation with big brother, when he glides into the kitchen in his Heely sneakers. "Mama, Did you know that there are people who are dead behind our fence?" I was wondering when he was going to figure that out. We live next door to an old cemetery. I shake my head in a "Yes," but keep reading. The next question really grabs my attention. "And Mommy, do you know that you and me and everybody dies?" I look up at him with a mouth full of cereal, at a loss for words. Big brother senses that I look alarmed. It's not because he's telling me something I don't already know, but rather, I'm not ready to discuss death with him before 7 a.m. on a random Thursday morning.
He leans into my face. "Don't worry Mama. You don't need your body when you die; you're a spirit."
"Really?!" I play dumb. "Tell me more about that." His tone is joyful and matter-of-fact. "Well, at Bible Camp yesterday we learned that Jesus gives us the power to live forever and ever. So, Mama, don't be scared." Big brother looks over my shoulder at the T.V. "Gotta go, Mama, Yo, Gaba, Gaba is on." He slides out of the room on his Heelys. I pick up Page Six again. In between crunches I think,"Well, that was easy."