Yesterday my friend’s two little girls came over to pawn some Girl Scout Cookies (a fine endeavor resulting in the ultimate addictive fake food ever - The Thin Mint). As darling as they are precocious, after about 20 minutes they inevitably began to get bored and wondered what every child assumes about people our age.
7 year old: “Where are your kids?” I don’t have any kids.
A few minutes later, the 5 year old: “Where is your daughter?” She’s in heaven. There was an accident when she was born.
“Oh. Oh yeah....because she wasn’t born at the right time.” (Good job explaining, Laurie)
7 year old: But you’re handling it pretty well. (Again, good job Laurie. Oh but aren’t they a lesson in how you never know when you’ll hear your own words come right out their mouth. How careful, how important those tender discussions are.)
5 year old: “I wish you could just have, like, two kids. And they would be born at the right time.” Five second pause as she fiddles with the kitchen chair - “And then you could have a daughter.”
Yes. Me too. I wish that too.