Forrest had just collapsed in a heap of exhaustion after running circles around the children for what seemed like hours in our backyard.
His head was nestled in between his front paws while his hind legs frogged out to absorb as much of the coolness from the shaded cement as possible.
Asher began speaking loudly to me.
"Forrest is dead mama. Forrest dead."
Since he has been talking quite regularly about characters being dead during his imaginative play, I thought I might probe a little further into his understanding of the topic.
Me: "Asher, do you know what it means to be dead?"
Asher (nodding with confidence): "Mmmm hmmmm."
Me: "What does it mean to be dead?"
Asher: "It mean you wake up."
And that is the exact moment that I walked up to him and kissed him on his forehead.