Out of the mouth of Babes

I have to give a shout out to Wendy at On the Front Porch. I read her post about her youngest son saying some embarrassing things in the store, and it reminded me of a story I'd like to share with all of you.

When my daughter, Jessica, was three years old, she just loved babies. We were at a McDonald's, along with her brother, Jason, who was five.

I pointed out the window and said, "Look, Jessica, there's a baby!" and she replied, in a REALLY LOUD VOICE,

"Mom, where do BABIES come from?"

Suddenly, it got real quiet at all the tables surrounding us, like the old E.F. Hutton commercials. Everyone was waiting for my response.

I leaned across the table and practically hissed at my daughter, "Jess! This isn't the time or place to talk about it! We'll discuss it later. And use your inside voice!"

Ignoring my warning, she asked loudly, "Why? Doesn't everybody ELSE want to know where babies come from?"

I just wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole......


When Jason was 5 and came home from his religious education class one day, he asked me, "Mom, when God made man, did he put his head on first, or his arms and legs?"


I used to have a routine in the morning - after my husband left for work, the kids would come into my bed. I would get up and shower, then come back into my room to get dressed. Jess was 3 and Jason was 5.

I never thought they were paying any attention to me since I'd put the TV on and they'd watch cartoons. That is, until the one morning when I was bending over to put on my underpants and Jason piped up, "Mom, exactly how LONG are your BOOBS?"

uh, what? Does he think I'm some kind of cow with an udder? Yikes!

That wasn't bad enough. He went on to ask,"And exactly what is that 'fur' on you?"

Ooookay. Right then and there I knew he was getting too old to see me naked. I just hurried up and got dressed, and luckily he was distracted by the TV. Whew! Close call.

But, alas, the dreaded time for the birds and bees came the next year. Jason was about six years old. I can't remember the original question. I do remember that I had read somewhere to always answer the question honestly and to use the correct vocabulary. That part was going to be hard.

But I did it. I answered his original question. And I took it one step further. (Or a mile further!) I game him a 10 minute dissertation on the facts of life. I was so proud of myself that I didn't notice his little eyes glazed over. When I was done lecturing, I looked over at Jason and asked, "Do you have any questions?"

"Yeah, Mom, why are some houses made of brick?"

Ah. A job well done I see.
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