Now I know why flasks exist.

We’re all in the car. Archie is driving. Archie and I are discussing something. Suddenly:

Nica: “Mommy, when you were pregnant, where was the hole?”
Me: “Whut?”
Nica: “When Ham was in your belly, was there a hole?”
Me: “You mean the bellybutton?”
Nica: “No, I mean, where did the baby come out?”

I look at Archie. He’s staring straight ahead at the road, suppressing a massive burst of laughter; his face is inflating and turning red.

Me: “Well, Nica, he came out from the bottom.”
Nica: “Your TUSH?”
Me: “That… area.”

There is a pause. I can hear synapses forming in the preschooler’s nervous system. In her fresh, moist brain, new sections are being constructed, several areas are lighting up.

Nica: “But how did he come out?”
Me: “Mommy had to push him out.”
Nica: “Out of your TUSH?”
Me: “Nearby.”
Nica: “Did it hurt?”
Me: “It was hard work.”
Nica: “And you had a big, big belly, right?”
Me: “Yes.”
Nica: “Mommy?”
Me: “Yes?”
Nica: “I don’t want to have kids.”
Me: “OK.”

Bourbon, please.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.