Will: Mama, I'm your friend forever. I'm your friend all the way to the United States, to the galaxies. I'm your friend to the future!
Me: Wow, that's a lot.
Will: I'm your friend even after I'm dead. I hope I get buried next to you. I can dig a hole and we can hold hands.
Will: Unless I dig a bigger hole, and I crawl into your part.
Will: UNLESS! I dig a hole and get out!
****LATER (AFTER I TELL CRAIG THIS STORY)***
Craig: I'm not so much about the digging a hole, about getting buried. I'd like to have my ashes scattered across the Deschutes, over my favorite fishing hole.
Me: So what's going to happen to me?
Craig (helpfully): You could learn to fish.
Me: Maybe they could just scatter my ashes over a library.