This morning at breakfast Anaya was in a contemplative mood. "Mommy," she queried seriously, "What if I had a broken--" She pondered and changed her mind. "What if I had two broken legs--" Apparently that wasn't good enough either. "Mommy," she began again, "what if I was dead? Would you take out the garbage?"
"Yes, Anaya," I assured her, "I could take out the garbage if you died. But I would be very sad, not because I had to take out the garbage, but because I love you. Your brothers could take out the garbage, too, but nobody can take the place of my little girl."
This was not sufficient. "But what if my brothers died. Then would you take out the garbage?"
"Yes. But I would be sad because I missed them."
"And what if I was really sick, like my tummy hurt a lot--then would you take it out?"
"Of course. Why are you asking?"
She looked puzzled herself. "I just wanted to know."