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If All Else Fails … Avoid

A recent conversation with the 6-year-old on the drive home from summer camp had me wanting to careen the SUV into the nearby woods and make a run for it so I wouldn’t have to answer uncomfortable questions.

The thing about kids is, they just say what’s on their mind. They ask tough questions without being embarrassed. They point out things that we adults try to ignore.

And they are brutal.

“Mom, how did you know when my birthday was going to be?” Mikey asked from the back seat as I pulled away from the curb at summer camp pickup.

“You mean, when did I know you would be born?”

“Yep.”

“Well, it takes nine months for a baby to grow, so when Dad and I found out I was pregnant, we counted nine months out, and that was about March 7.”

I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the kid kicking that around a bit. “So, you can only be pregnant if you have a baby in your belly?”

“Yes.” I started to get a little nervous about where the conversation was headed, and checked the clock – 11 minutes to our house.

“So, Emily is having another baby.” (Note that “Emily” is code for someone else, who doesn’t need to be identified as the subject of this uncomfortable conversation.)

I cringed. “Uh, no, bud. Emily is not having another baby.”

“Sure, she is. She has a baby in her belly.”

Oh dear.

“No, Mikey. Sometimes people might look like they have a baby in their belly, but they don’t. Because all bodies are made differently, remember. Look at my belly, it’s not flat. Someone might think I have a baby in my belly, but I don’t.”

Another peek in the rearview confirmed that the kid’s wheels were turning again. “Is that because you eat too much food?”

 Ouch. I glanced at the clock again – eight minutes to home.

“Well, not necessarily (lie). Bodies come in all shapes and sizes. I mean, yes, someone who eats very healthy might look different than someone who east less healthy …” I came to a line of traffic and cursed the roadwork being done near our street. Who needs improved culverts, anyway?

Mikey was making eye contact with me in the rearview, just waiting for me to provide an explanation that made sense. “You know how your friend …” Nope. I decided to abandon that train of thought so as not to single out any playmates for body type.

A different tactic came to mind. “You know how some of your friends are taller than you, and some are shorter?” I saw him nod. “Well, there’s nothing you can do to be taller or shorter. It’s just the way you are. You can’t change it.”

“So, Emily can’t help that she has a baby in her belly?”

“No! Emily doesn’t have a baby in her belly, and please don’t ask her if she does! You can’t just go around asking people if they have babies in their bellies.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s rude.”

I saw him look out the window. “Mom?”

I checked the clock – two minutes to our driveway.

“Yeah?”

“How, um …”

Please don’t ask it … Please don’t ask it …

I shrunk in the seat. I turned up the radio.

“Mom?”

“Mmmm?”

“Can I ride my scooter when I get home?”

“Yep! You betcha! Hey, isn’t this your new favorite song? Let’s turn it up and sing along!”

And with that, a bullet was successfully dodged.

I’m not sure how much longer it will be until Mikey asks where babies come from, but when he does, I fully intend to tell him Santa leaves them under the Christmas tree with all the other presents.

Holly Crocco is editor of the Putnam County Times/Press and mother of a 6-year-old. She can be reached at editorial@putnampresstimes.com.

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