On Easter, we woke the kids at 5:15 AM for 6:00 Mass. It took The Blitz a long while to wake up but midway through the readings he said, "Easter means Jesus is alive, right?" "Right, shhhhhh." "So why is he dead right there on the cross?" "That's a statue. Shhhh." "Okay so he's alive." "Yes. Alive. Raised from the dead." "Like zombies?" "No. Like God. Shhhh." "So he's alive like ME?"
It went on; you can imagine. After Daddy gave us nineteen dirty looks, I told him we'd have to talk about it later. Thankfully, he got to contemplating the unlikeliness of the Easter Bunny and forgot.
A few days later, he gave me a talk on bullying. He began asking me if I was bullied when I was a kid. I said, "Sure." He said, "I know what to do if I get bullied." So he told me:
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