Tell me the truth about Abraham Lincoln's mole

The enlightening drive home after picking up Erin at Kindergarten:


“How was school today Erin, did you get new spelling words?”

“Uh yes…did you know Jesus died?”

“Yes, I’m aware of that, it was some time ago. Did you learn that at school today?”

“No, church, well Mommy told me at church… Church is really long”

“Oh yea? How long is it?”

“An hour or something.”

“That’s nothing, the church I went to when I was a little girl was three hours.”

“THREE HOURS!!! I wish there was a zero-hour-church… How long is the church you go to now that you’re big?”

“Well, zero hours.”

“Chels,” she rolls her eyes, “tell me the truth.”

“Well I don’t really go to any church anymore.”

“You should, it’s good for you I think...Are we home yet?"

"Almost."

"This car ride feels like three-hour church." After a thoughtful pause she says, "Did you know Abraham Lincoln had a mole on his face?” (Pointing to the approximate spot of Lincoln’s facial mole.)

“Oh, ya?” I say trying to let her feel brainy.

“He’s dead too.”