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Dad, what is a estate sale?
aturday December 3rd, 2006
Walking around the neighborhood


T: E Se Te Aa Te E – sale; dad, what is a estate sale?
Dad: An estate sale. Always remember words starting with A, E, I , O U get "an" not "a".
T: I remember. What is an estate sale dad?
Dad: Usually, when parents of a house get very old and they cannot take care of themselves their children move them to special homes and put their belongings up for sale.
T: Everything?

Dad: Most everything. Usually, their children come and take what they need and the rest is for sale.
T: Did you know these people?
Dad: Yes I did.
T: I did too. I always saw her when we were walking.

Dad: I did too.
T: She always walked in front of our house too.
Dad: I know.
T: She always stopped and talked to you.
Dad: I know.
T: Where did they move her?
Dad: Who moved who?
T: Her children? Where did they move her? Dad, was she very old?

Dad: No she was not. But some times when not very old people die, they too get their belongings sold in an estate sale.
T: Dad, I’ll be very sad if you die.
Dad: I’ll be very upset too! But I’m not going to die!
T: But, you said every body dies.
Dad: Well, that’s true. Everyone dies some day.
T: When are you going to die?
Dad: I don’t know: Not soon, I hope – and not today for sure.
T: How old are you dad? 
Dad: 43.
T: Oh!  Emm, daddy?

Dad: Yes sweet heart?
T: Are you going to be alive when I’m 43? How old will you be when I’m 43? 
Dad: I’ll be around eighty. 
T: EIGHTY? How old is your father?
Dad: He is seventy-two.
T: How old will I be when you’re seventy-two?

Dad: Around thirty-five.
T: Dad, you know - eighty is more than seventy-two.
Dad: I know.
T: That was a close one.
 
Dad: Would it surprise you if I told you I have no Idea what you’re talking about?
T: Daddy? How old is you father’s daddy?
Dad: He is not living. He would have been hundred and four if he had not died 12 years ago.
T: Why did he die?
 
Dad: He got old! Honey. Remember I told you people grow old and then they die.
T: How old was he when he died?
Dad:
Ninety-two.
T: Are you going to be ninety-two some day?
Dad: No one knows.
T: I want you to be ninety-two some day. Am I going to be ninety -two some day?
Dad: Yes you will. You will live a happy and healthy life for more than a hundred years.
T: A HUNDRED YEARS? How old are you going to be when I am hundred years old?
Dad: About hundred thirty some years old!
T:  Are you going to be happy and healthy?
Dad: I don’t think so; most likely not! No one has ever lived that long.
T: YES THEY HAVE!
Dad:  Someone you know?
T: YES! Professor Dumbledore!

Dad: Of Course!
T: Dad? If you’re not happy and you die, I’ll be very sad. And when they come to sell your stuff I won’t let them.

Dad: Thanks honey. You can take what you like.
T: I won’t need anything; except your paintings! And sculptures too. I want to show them to my children. And I give my painting to my grandma.

Dad:  Which Painting? You have thousands.
T: No. Silly! That picture of me that you painted!
Dad: Oh that painting! It’s so nice of you. But, I think YOU should keep it.
T: She said I’m so adorable in that painting she wants to steal me from that picture. I’m just going to give it to her.
Dad: Only if you want to.
T: I want to. And, your office, dad! I want to keep it the way it is. It’s messy but I like it.
Dad: It’s not messy. It’s crowded. There’s a difference you know.
T: No dad. It’s messy! Don’t worry dad; I won’t let anyone touch your stuff.
Dad: I think I need a hug. If you’re tired of walking I can carry you in my arms.
T: YES! Carry me the all the way home.
Dad: Are you kidding me? Only to that stop sign!

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