Oscar, my four-and-a-half-year-old son, had just built a house out of cushions. He had set aside a room for his little sister Alice, one for me and one for the dinosaurs. His mum got the biggest bedroom because, according to him, she had “lots of things”.

Then he stopped in front of his construction.

“Dad, when I'm grown up, will we all still live together?”

I almost said yes. It was the easiest word, the one that would have closed the question in a second.

But I also knew that one day Oscar might want to live somewhere else. And I didn’t want to promise him something nobody can guarantee.

A question about tomorrow, a need for today

At four, the future sometimes looks like an extension of the present. Children imagine themselves grown up while keeping their routines, their toys and the people around the table.

When Oscar asked whether we would always live together, he wasn’t preparing a property application. Above all, he wanted to know whether the bonds that reassured him today would disappear.

I told him that as they grow up, many people choose another place to live. Some stay close to their family, others move further away. But living in two different houses doesn’t mean you stop loving each other.

He thought for a moment.

“Even if I have a house with a dragon?”

“Even with a dragon. We can still visit and call each other.”

Being honest without explaining all of life at once

There’s an opposite temptation: wanting to be so accurate that you unfold every uncertainty about the future in front of a small child. Moving house, possible separations, the passing years. Yet he hadn’t asked about any of that.

I tried to answer his real question with what I could say for certain today: we are his family, we love him and we are here to look after him.

That doesn’t guarantee that nothing will change. It gives him something to hold on to without inventing a future that stands still.

Oscar returned to his cushions. He moved the dinosaur into my room, then added a door between all the rooms.

“That way, we can visit each other.”

He had found an architectural solution to a question that felt enormous to me.

I asked whether the dragon was allowed to come too.

“Yes. But he has to take his shoes off.”

Keep this handy

The situation

Your child asks whether you'll always live together.

Try this

Notice what your child is trying to do and leave room before offering another idea.

  • “Would you like me to join in, or would you rather carry on?”

Keep in mind: Play does not need to be directed or turned into a learning activity every time.