Last night, I talked with my oldest son
about what to do in a mass shooting.
Take cover, if possible,
lie on the ground, face down
and play dead.
He’s eight years old.
And, for us,
for now,
life goes on.
Fifty-eight injured.
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db mcneill – Momsomniac
trying to make all this not sleeping amount to something
It’s so sad when we have to school our children on the ugly realities of life. It’s terrible when the good old days are when we just had to worry about kidnappings.
Before last week, I had at least thought this could wait ’til middle school. : (