On our way to school, McK and I chit-chat about all sorts of things. Sometimes we talk about her friends or music. Sometimes we listen to my favorite podcast if the topic is appropriate. Sometimes we listen to her favorite podcast to hear a good story. Sometimes we play an epic game of I spy…
Today, though, she caught me off guard. I heard a quiet question from the back and turned down Thunder so I could make out what she was saying.
Mama? How do babies get out of the mamas’ tummies?
I’ve been dreading this question. I could say something like magic or I don’t know. But I’ve been firm about telling her I would never lie so I feel like I need to be honest here.
How do you think they get out? Maybe I’ve dodged a bullet.
Nope! I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you. How did G and me get out of your belly?
Well, the doctor helps the baby come out. I’m hoping it’s a sufficient answer that is truthful enough that she cannot call me out on it when she learns the whole story.
But how do they get out?
I sat in silence for a few moments. She asked again. I took a deep breath.
They come out of the mama’s vagina.
Oh. Ok. Then a minute later…But how?
The mama has to push and the doctor helps.
Ok. Like when you hold my hand when I poop?
Kind of. But Daddy held my hand.
Ok. Can I get a munchkin?
What I thought was a big deal was not. Sometimes moms are the ones that make things bigger than they should be.
It was as easy as that. I just hope she doesn’t ask me how they get into the mamas’ tummies anytime soon.
I am writing for the 2019 March Slice of Life Challenge