So right at Martin's school pickup one day last week Lydia asked THE question, you know, the one you never feel quite prepared for. The baby question. Which should not be surprising given her interest in having babies, but still. She's only five.
Saved by the pickup - I replied that it was a great question but we'd have to talk about it after we got home. Of course, once home, she went on her way and in the chaos of dinner, homework, dog, bath, bed I quite forgot about it.
I remembered on Sunday and told Marty. So at breakfast (breakfast!) he launched right in, and asked Lydia if she still wanted to know where babies came from. "Of course," she said. "Not so fast," said Martin. "I DO NOT want to know."
"Are you sure?" I asked. "At 8 years old, some of your friends might start talking about this stuff."
"I don't care, I won't listen." he said. "I don't want to know!"
And so he doesn't. But Lydia does! In basic, simple terms - and that's all she cared about. No "eew" or "gross" with her; just gathering information, she filed it away for future reference.
But on the topic of kissing, she had this to say: "I want to kiss a boy, right NOW!"
Just as I was thinking, "We are going to need both a porch, and a shotgun," we realized that she meant she wanted to kiss her dad. Aww.
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