Sunday, May 15, 2011
My daughter has been asking all kinds of curious questions lately.
I’m not exactly sure what’s sparked the interest these past few weeks - maybe kids just get extra inquisitive towards the end of the school year. I keep wondering if, while they play around in the sand discuss things like, “What do you think Microsoft is going to do with Skype after the acquisition?” Or “What about those Medicare costs?” or maybe even, “Why doesn’t your Dad like the Beatles or Kevin Costner?”
All easily answerable, but yesterday she threw me through me off a bit:
Daughter: “Daddy, when can I have a baby?”
I stopped for a second, literally put my index finger to my chin, and looked up as if the answer where written somewhere on the ceiling.
My immediate thought was definitely not like most of my cousins on my biological mother’s side of the family – but we see them on occasion and that would be really awkward if she happened to say anything about that conversation.
While waiting she followed up with something more specific:
Daughter: “Like, how old do I have to be?"
Me: “At least 30. And you have to have graduated from college, have a good job, and be married to somebody I say is OK to marry. All in that order. Now let’s go get some ice cream!”
Then while eating Popsicles she asked why Daisy Dukes with bikinis on top melted Popsicles.
I told her it was Mommy’s turn to answer a question.