As we were driving home from the shops last week, I could hear hysterical laughter coming from the back of the car. Raf explained that when you're feeling sad you should tickle yourself under your arm-pit to cheer yourself up. It really works. Another - much more macabre game (and this relates to Raf's current death angst) is to pretend to be dead, and to then 'check armpits' (i.e. tickle them) to see if the person is still, actually, alive. Thankfully everyone has awakened following the check.
Which brings me to death-anxiety. Raf has a lot of questions about death and dying - when it's going to happen, what will happen to him when I die, will we go to the stars, and, if so, what does one do up there, and on, and on. When my dad died, and Raf was only 2, we said that papa was in the stars but as he gets older this answer is less satisfactory because of course it's not actually what we really believe. So now we explain that we actually don't know, that we like to think people go to stars but that people live on in our hearts and in our minds, and also then explain what others might believe (heaven, etc). Such big questions for such a little boy.
Raf has also come back from the UK with quite a strong English accent (he had a bit of a hybrid accent before). Not sure if this will last, especially as he begins school.
He also expressed desire for brown hair his week, which was prompted by an insect - which he mistook for a bee - was buzzing around his head. He said, 'This bee is bothering me. I wish I had brown hair as the bees keep thinking my yellow hair is a bumble beehive'.