We told the boys today. The first words out of Bennett's mouth were, "Are you going to die?" Believe it or not, I did NOT break down in tears at that point, but answered him honestly and calmly, much to my surprise.
Later that night, while we were eating dinner at Il Vicino, we were talking about the lump and the boys were asking how big it was compared to Daddy's kidney stone. When I used the word "tumor", Bennett immediately asked, "Are there dead people living in it?"
All of the sudden, I had this vision of a bunch of miniature zombies wandering around inside the 2 cm marble in my right boob! Which then made me think that maybe cancer cells really are the "undead" of the corporeal self.
Anyway, I tried not to laugh, because I didn't want to hurt his feelings or make him feel bad (especially after we had just made a very strong point earlier about wanting them to feel free to ask us any questions they might have).
Despite our attempts to suppress it, John and I both started chuckling, and I think one of us finally asked him what he meant. He said, "Well, dead people live in tombs, and you have a tumor ......"
When we, as adults, enter the symbolic world of the written word, sometimes we lose the music. For me, because "tomb" and "tumor" are spelled so differently, they have absolutely no connection whatsoever. For a child, language is all sound and rhyme and rhythm and feeling.
I am pretty sure, however, that he really didn't believe what he was asking (the part about dead people living in my tumor)
No, I think he actually knew that he was making a pun.
Not only that, but he was doing it to make me laugh.
I'm working on my turn undead spell. Failing that, I'll just blow the fuckers to bits. (see pic below)