Processing muerte

Citrine has a beautiful post on her blog about how empathetic and thoughtful and kind Gizmo's been lately. It's not all butterflies and gentle breezes.

To encourage baths, sometimes we grab a cup full of ice cubes, and I hand them to G to melt under a drizzle of hot water.

Gizmo (holding 2 ice cubes under the hot water): Eieee! Melting. They're melting. ... They're dead. More babies please!

Ocelot: what?

G: They [the ice cubes] are babies, when they go in the water, they die.

O: what???

G: You're the momma. 2 babies, please!