So we're in Wisconsin this weekend for the wedding of one of the Husband's cousins and the christening of our nephew. Last night was the wedding reception and the Sophie and I were seated next to the Husband's very cute six-year-old second cousin Abigail. Abigail is quite precocious and a great conversationalist. She was very interested in Sophie and kept remarking how cute she was and was very interested in Sophie's tiny hands and feet. Abigail even quite rightly noted (and as we learned on babycenter last week) that Sophie has elbows but no knees yet. Things were all going quite well until I heard those fateful words: "Where did she come from?"
Yes, that's right I had just been asked by a six year old the dreaded infamous question: Where do babies come from? Had I been thinking on my feet I would have replied: "Saks Fifth Avenue, baby department." Instead I sat there for a moment dumbfounded, wheels turning, thinking-- I can't say stork, shit, what do I do? I replied: "um, she just came out" and then I quickly asked: "are you going to dance tonight?" I got an excited "Oh, yes!!!" Followed then by a an ever welcome topic switch to "have you ever seen Hannah Montana?" "Why no!" I replied (delightedly) "Why don't you tell me about that" and the most grave of bird and bee inquiries had quickly and thankfully passed.