If you're sticking with me after the deer entrails and the career crisis, you deserve something a little more lighthearted. Here are some of the conversations I've had with my kids about legendary musicians. For this I will name my daughters after some of the VonTrapp family children: Liesl, 8, Brigitta, 6, Gretl, 3.

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Last October, I was listening to Elvis in the kitchen while cleaning up after dinner and dancing. Mostly dancing. My three year-old daughter, Gretl, ran in and started showing off her sweet moves. Jailhouse Rock was playing.

"Who sings this?" she asked, impressed.

"Isn't it great? It's Elvis," I said, as I danced with her.

Brigitta, who had recently started her kindergarten year, piped in, "Elvis? We learned about him in music class." Her face lit up with excitement and curiosity, as it did every time something she learned in school translated to her world outside of school.

"No kidding! What did you learn about Elvis?"

"Johnny said he died on the toilet," said Brigitta.

Liesl was standing at the dining room table drawing. She abruptly stopped and looked up to ask, "How does someone die on a toilet?"

"Well, whenever a body is done, it's done," I said. "Doesn't really matter where it is. Anyway, what else did you learn about Elvis, like from your teacher and not from Johnny?"

"He lived in a big house that had a name like Elvisland or something."

"Graceland, yeah! Anything else?

"I don't remember," Brigitta shrugged. "Elvis was artist of the week a long time ago."

"What's artist of the week?"

"Ms. Finn teaches us about a famous singer and we listen to some of their music," Liesl explained.

I was very excited about this artist of the week thing, and while I never really asked too much about other subjects (if I don't hear anything, I assume it's going okay), I always asked about artist of the week. And the conversations always seemed to focus on whether the musician was dead, and if so, how they died.

One week, Liesl told me the artist of the week was, "The Queens. And three of them are still alive! But one died of an immune system disease." When she ventured into what she thought might be a more mature topic she would tread lightly, with an uncertain look on her face.

There was, of course, The Beatles. "Two of them are alive and two of them are dead," Brigitta reported.

"One of them died in a park, in New York City, I think. A long time ago," Liesl said solemnly.

Elton John. "Still alive!" Brigitta exclaimed. "He wore really cool glasses and outfits."

I asked if there was an artist of the week yet that was a woman. They said no. And I waited.

In December, Brigitta said, "Mom! Guess who the artist of the week was? The Boss!"

"Bruce Springsteen! He's one of my favorites! What songs of his did you listen to?"

"We watched a video where he sang 'Santa Claus is Coming to Town.' It was really good."

"That is a good one," I said, hugging her. "Is that it then? Ms. Finn didn't play any songs from Nebraska or anything?" I said mostly to myself.

"No, just the Santa one. Does he have other songs?"

Stevie Wonder. "But Mom, how does he play the piano when he's blind?" Brigitta asked.

"He can still hear music and feel the piano keys. And sometimes when one sense isn't as strong, the other senses grow stronger."

On a January morning, as I walked Brigitta to her line at school, she exclaimed, "Oh! I forgot to tell you! We had a woman artist of the week!"

"Finally! Who was it?"

"I don't remember."

"Maybe if you give me clues, I can guess. What do you remember about her?"

"She's blonde. Very blonde. And she's still alive!"

"Oh good! Was it Madonna?"

She grinned her big toothy grin. "That's not a name. No."

"Lady Gaga?"

"Mom! That's not a name either! You're just making these up!" she giggled.

"Taylor Swift?"

"No, I know who Taylor Swift is."

"Well, yes, of course."

Her friend walked over and I asked if she remembered who the artist of the week was.

"Um, I think Dolly Parton?" she said with uncertainty.

"Dolly Parton! She's great! You used to get books from her!" I said to Brigitta.

Before Liesl and Brigitta were in school, their grandpa signed them up for Dolly's Imagination Library and they would each get one book mailed to the house every month. There was always a color photo of Dolly printed on the inside flap, and I would point her out and tell them she sent the books. The program was funded by a local organization, but it was more fun to think of Dolly Parton as the actual giver of the books, like a sparkling blonde book fairy.

Brigitta became a big Dolly Parton fan after Dolly was featured as the artist of the week. She and her friends dressed up and had "Dolly Dance Parties". Brigitta and Gretl even had a game where Brigitta was Dolly and Gretl was Taylor Swift and they had a sort of dance and singing battle. We created a whole playlist for it.

Whitney Houston came up later in the winter. They watched a video of her singing the national anthem. Liesl said, "She died in a bathtub. It makes me sad. She was a mom."

I remembered that one well. It happened the same day I had a D & C procedure following a miscarriage. Oh, this was supposed to be lighthearted! Sorry. If that one had worked out, Liesl wouldn't be here, so it's all fine and good.

I will clarify at this point, that all information about bathroom deaths was contributed by fellow students and not by the music teacher. Once things are said out loud in a classroom, they unfortunately can't be unheard.

Because three year-old Gretl has overheard several conversations about the various ways a musician can perish, when she hears a song she likes, she asks if the singer is still alive.

After a grocery trip one morning, Katy Perry's "Never Really Over" was playing as I drove home.

"Who sings this?" Gretl asked from behind me.

"Katy Perry."

"Did she die?"

"No, she's alive."

"Yayyy! I sink she lives there," she said, "in that house with the pink door."

She also believes everyone on earth lives in our neighborhood.

In the spring, while the girls had their afternoon snacks, Brigitta said, "This guy in music class today was very interesting. Guess what! He got punched in the eye and then one of his eyes was gray and one was brown."

"And he dressed like an alien named 'something stardust," Liesl contributed. "He was really into outer space. And he wore makeup. He seems like a really creative guy."

"I wonder what color his eyes were before they got punched," Brigitta said.

"Maybe they were both brown or maybe they were both blue," Gretl piped in.

"Do you remember any of his songs?" I asked.

"Yeah, 'Let's Dance,'" Liesl said before changing the subject to what happened at recess.

David Bowie died the same day Brigitta was born. But because the topic of his death didn't come up on it's own, I'll save that information for another day.