Would you rather

We all know the game “would you rather,” right? You know, the one where someone offers you a couple of options and you have to pick the best of the best or the best of the worst.

Like this: Would you rather go back in time and meet your ancestors or go into the future to meet your great-grandchildren? (FYI, I’d go forward).

Anyway, Maren is on a big would you rather kick recently. At first she didn’t get it, which made for the worst games of would you rather ever. The other night at the dinner table, she wanted to know if I would rather live in Cinderella’s castle for a month or sleep on the garage floor with no furniture? Uh, kid, I’ll take the castle. Or, would you rather eat six pieces of pizza or six pieces of cake? Really, it doesn’t matter.

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Oh yeah, well you’re a stinky head.

So Maren and I had this discussion that she needed to hone her “Would you rather” skills. It took a few days but I had a feeling we were getting it. She’s smart enough, I thought, it won’t take long, but you could see the wheels spinning when she started talking about it.

Then this comes up: Dad, would you rather get eaten by an alligator or eaten by a bear.

That’s actually a pretty good question, I thought. Morbid, but good. Then I thought how to answer it and it hit me: not only was it a good question, it needed answered carefully. Internally the conversation going on was something like this: If I get eaten by an alligator at least they would pull me under the water first and drown me. A bear would, literally, eat me first.

So I said alligator and quickly tried to change the subject. Of course she wanted to know why, what 7-year old doesn’t want to know if you want eaten one carnivore over another. “The alligator would pull me under the water before eating me.”

End of answer. Let’s talk about Cinderella some more. But Maren thought it was a good enough question that she asked my mother-in-law. Before I had chance to warn Bobchi (Polish for grandmother) of her answer, she also chose alligator, because “a bear would eat you piece by piece while you were still alive.”

Ugh. Anybody want to spend the next six or seven months rocking a kid to sleep at night.

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