Sorry, Bobby.

Today I told my daughter that Bobby McFerrin is dead. The conversation was all kinds of weird and probably not my best parenting moment for lots of reasons, but mostly because it started with a lie. An inadvertent lie, but a lie all the same. Are you as confused as I am?

E: Agh! I dropped my toast!
M: Don't worry, babe. Just pick it up. No big deal.
E: Don't worry.
M: Don't worry, be ____
E: Happy!
M: Remember that song?
E: Yes. Who sings that song, mama?
M: Bobby McFerrin.
E: Bobby McFerrin. Where is Bobby McFerrin?
M: He died. (I swear I thought he was dead. I have no idea where I got that from.)
E: What did he die to?
M: I'm not sure, a heart attack I think.
E: What is heart attack?
M: It's when your heart stops. You know how the heart goes "lub-dup"? Well, when it stops doing that, you die.
E: When my heart stops, I get another one. It will be yellow.
M: Don't worry babe. Your heart won't stop.
E: WHEN it stops, mama. WHEN it stops, I get another one.
M: Okay, that sounds good.
E: What did that man die to?
M: What man?
E: Bobby McFerrin.
M: Let me check. (Google, Wikipedia...wait a tic...still alive!) Oh, I lied. He's still alive! He didn't die, babe.
E: He didn't die. You lied.
M: Sorry about that.

Now that we're entering the dizzying phase of "How many questions can I ask in one day?", I think I'm going to have to hone my skills a little bit. Both in factual accuracy and delivery. I guess the moral of this story is...when your child asks you a question, just Google it. Or, if you're going to make something up, maybe don't start by killing people off.