It was an innocent enough start to the conversation. JP, Lou Loo and I were sitting down to lunch and the subject of our First Ever Egg (produced today with much fanfare by Maisy) came up. Mr G had explained to JP some time ago that the reason the cockerels 'sit on' the hens is to make chicks. We had seen our neighbour's cockerels do this many (many many) times during their visits to our garden.
Over lunch (obviously after much consideration) JP said quite matter-of-factly, 'So, Daddy has to sit on you to make a baby. Or lie on you, or whatever.'
Gulp.
'Kind of', I replied.
Cue bemused glances exchanged between Mr G and I across the kitchen.
'So what does he do - sit on you or lie on you?'
'Whatever he wants,' mutters Mr G, with a smirk on his face.
'So, how does the baby get made?'
Here we go... I thought I'd have another 3-4 years before having to answer that question. But we did it, sticking to the facts and being as light-hearted as possible. JP lost interest almost immediately and moved on to more important things, like battle droids and drop-ships. But I was left feeling amused and a tiny bit sad at the same time. I can remember so vividly being able to fit the whole length of him across my knees and now the sex questions are coming at us already. Did I just blink and miss the last 6 years?
0 comments:
Post a Comment