“Stop Lydia. That’s weird.”

“What’s weird? Why won’t you play this game with me?” the little sister asked calmly.

The older sister scratched at her head and closed her eyes, “It’s just weird. I don’t understand how it could even work that way.”

Lydia shrugged her shoulders, “You mean the family?”

“Yes.” Clara said flatly.

“You mean how there isn’t a Dad in the family,” she pointed at the dolls in her lap.

“Yes!” Clara said louder.

Lydia shrugged again, “It’s just… That’s the family.”

“But where is the dad!?” Clara demanded.

“There isn’t a dad. There’s never been a dad. There’s just a mom and she had these babies.”

Clara groaned, and looked to me for support. I quickly diverted my eyes and pretended I wasn’t paying attention.

“Okay. Fine.” Lydia finally conceded. “There WAS a Dad, but he’s gone now.”

“Okay,” Clara breathed a sigh of relief. “Where did he go then?”

Lydia considered this for a moment. “He died I guess.”

“Okay, and how did that happen?”

Some more consideration. “Alright, if you have to know EVERYTHING about the Dad that we aren’t even going to be playing with, here it is. The Dad’s job was in the war. And he left to be in the war, and when he got there everyone was shooting, and for some reason all of the bad guys decided to only shoot at him and not shoot at anyone else.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds while Clara processed this. She turned towards me again. “Dad, would he have died if that happened?”

“Yes, Clara, the dad is dead.”

She turned back to her sister and bowed slightly, “Okay, we can play with the dolls now.”