Dom: (In French) Look, Javier, Cows!
Javier: Where are they going, Mommy?
Me: They could be going to another farm.
Javier: Or maybe they're going to the place where people will kill them so we can eat them for dinner! Or lunch!
Dom: (In French) They're going to another farm.
Me: Maybe they're going to a petting zoo.
Javier: Or maybe they're going to the place where people will kill them so they can be yummy!
Did I mention that I was a vegetarian for thirteen years (and a vegan for two of those) before I met my husband?
From the time Javier was old enough to ask where meat came from I've been very honest and told him we were eating pieces of dead animals, and that the animals were killed just so we could eat them. I didn't want to scare him or horrify him, but I thought it was important that he know what it meant to have that pork chop or salmon fillet for dinner.
I think the 'meat is murder' conversation will have to wait another couple of years. In the meantime I'll try not to feel too guilty that I still find what he said hilarious.