by Mary Beth
Every day when I get home, I ask Annie how her day was in school. And if it was a school day for Cora (three days out of the week), I ask Cora the same question. With Cora, I always have the same conversation.
![](https://yearinnewzealand.files.wordpress.com/2020/06/img_2958.jpeg?w=685)
It goes like this:
Me: Cora, how was your day at school?
Cora: Annie school! Annie Annie!
Me: Yes, but Coco went to school too, right?
Cora: (silence)
Me: What did you do at school today? Who was there at school today?
Cora: People!
Me: People? Which people?
Cora: Mean people!
Me: No! There are no mean people at your school! They are nice people!
Cora: Mean people.
Me: No mean people! Nice people!
Cora: Mean people!
Me: No!
Annie: Her school is full of mean people.
Cora: Mean people! Mean people!
![](https://yearinnewzealand.files.wordpress.com/2020/06/img_6780-1.jpeg?w=843)
But today, Cora added a new twist to our usual dialogue.
Me, at the end of the above conversation: No mean people at your school! They are all nice people!
Cora: Dead people.
Me (silent for a moment): Dead people? You must have meant good people. GOOD people.
Cora: Dead people.
Me: GOOD people. It’s not the same as dead. GOOD people. There are good people at school.
Cora (after pausing to consider): Mean people! Dead people!
Me: Nice people!
Annie: She said “dead people”.
Cora: Dead people!
![](https://yearinnewzealand.files.wordpress.com/2020/06/img_6741.jpeg?w=1024)