Death & Disney

“Mommy, where is Chicken Little’s mother?” my four-year-old son, Jonah, asked me as we watched the “Chicken Little” movie last week. Jonah noticed the mother’s absence in an early scene as the camera panned to a family photo hanging in Chicken Little’s house. The portrait showed a smiling Mama chicken, Papa chicken, and young Chicken Little. At the heart of this famous “sky is falling” tale lies the strained relationship between Chicken Little and his father. Mom is not mentioned or seen (aside from the photo). So I think it’s safe to assume that she’s in chicken heaven.

“Chicken Little’s mother is at work,” I cheerfully answered, giving Jonah a little squeeze. “I wonder where his mommy works,” he said earnestly before taking a slurp from his apple juice box.

When I read to my two-and-a-half-year-old daughter her favorite "princess" bedtime stories, I deliberately skip over the multiple mentions of death. Have the romantic tales of Cinderella, Snow White and the Princess and the Pea always been so grim? Mommies and daddies die. Evil witches plot death. As a mother now, Disney suddenly feels danergerously dark, so I revise the stories as I read, keeping things relatively upbeat.

Disney aside, children are affected by real-life death. Recently, my husband attended a funeral for a friend’s father. Jonah and his best friend, Lilly, have now incorporated this event into their imaginative play.

“We’re going to a funeral,” the kids happily announce to us when they meet for play dates. They say this as if they’re skipping off to the playground.

Lately, Jonah and his friends seem almost obsessed with death. It started around Halloween this year with their attempt to understand skeletons. Jonah wants to know if he will be hungry when he's a skeleton. He is also afraid that he will be cold since he never sees a skeleton wearing a coat -- and after all it is winter. My friend Allison's son announced the other day that he will think about and love his grandmother even after he's dead. "Let's hope that doesn't happen anytime soon," Allison sweetly told her son.

When and how should we talk to our kids about dying? If movies made for young children discuss the subject, should we? How much do we need to explain to them and when? Do we let our kids play out a funeral in their imaginations or do we gently tell them what a funeral is and insist that they not use it in their play?

These are all questions that my friends and I talk about. I'm looking for the answers, and when I have them I will report back. Until then, Cinderella's mommy is on vacation and will soon be home to kick her ugly stepmother's butt.