The Inquisition

When I asked the Lord to bless me with happy, healthy children, I forgot to ask for dumb ones. When my oldest daughter was four, I became pregnant with what would become her sister. I knew I was going to have a lot of explaining to do once I blossomed (read “swelled up like a blowfish”) in my pregnancy. At the end of my first trimester, I took it upon myself to broach the subject with her. “You’re going to have a little brother or sister,” I told her. In my naiveté, I thought this would be sufficient. Since babies are so fearfully and wonderfully made in their mother’s wombs, why can’t He tattoo instructions on the bottoms of their feet? Anyway, her response was an indignant “Why?” Not having been saved yet at that point, but having a firm belief in God nevertheless, I explained that God had decided it was time for her to have a sibling. “Well, is it in your tummy like on TV?”“Yes, that’s where God puts all the babies.” Simple enough. “Well, how did it get in there?” she asked, clearly disgusted at this point. “Uh, err, well ya see, um, hey.” Not a complete answer, or even complete words. Yeah, that’ll explain it. In my brilliance, I then responded, “God and Daddy put it there.” And with His mercy, that was enough. For then.


Two years later, I found myself in the same situation. Except now, The Inquisitive One was 6 and far wiser than before (thank you kindergarten). After being told she was going to be blessed with another sibling, she simply smiled and said ‘Cool’. Oh, we could only be so lucky…driving down the highway (doesn’t it always happen like this?), she popped off with, “Exactly HOW did Daddy put that baby in your tummy?” And before I could respond she asked, “Why are you making that face?” (Poker faces having never been an aptitude of mine).

So I told her, “You see, it’s very complicated. When we get home, I will talk to your father and we will decide how and what to tell you,” and frankly, I was quite pleased with myself. No less than 7 seconds later, she blurted, “You had sex didn’t you?” in an “Aha! I caught you!” sort of way. All I could say was, “Yeah.” Being caught red-handed, so to speak, I asked her if she even knew what sex was.

Well, of course she did: “naked lovin.” I felt the need to explain no further.