Last night, Little Miss said she wished she and Captain were the same age because she wanted to know what it was like to be a baby. I explained that you forget what it's like to be a baby because memory and language isn't developed enough. I could tell her what it was like for me when she was a baby, but no one can really know what it was like for her as a baby. She then rambles and said she wanted to adopt a baby. I gently told her that that's a great idea, but we are a two-child household and all done. She corrected me and said, "No. I want to adopt when I'm older because I don't want stitches."
Ah. I told her that was still a good idea, and she can do what she chooses. I then told her that you don't have to get stitches if you have a baby. That was only one way babies are born. So, of course, she asked what the other way was. So, I told her. Her eyes got very big. Then, she pretended to throw up. A second passed. Another. She then says, "But how does a baby fit?" I told her that the passage stretches to accommodate a baby when it's time.
Then, the eye rolling and (fake) gagging really went into high gear.
I'm glad that I didn't have to explain how they got there in the first place. And also glad that I don't have to worry about grandkids for awhile.
I've never known any trouble that an hour's reading didn't assuage. Charles De Secondat (1689 - 1755)
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