a little TMI for now ...

I've mentioned before how Friday's pretty clued up on the whole procreation thing. As illustrated by that experience, to my utmost relief at the time, she's still a little fuzzy about the actual mechanics, but she has the biology down pat.
We've been waiting for the penny to drop, for her brain to tick over and produce the much-anticipated question: exactly how do the mummy egg and the daddy sperm join in blissful union? I've totally been expecting The Question to come at the least convenient and most socially inappropriate time, but I wasn't expecting this ...

A book we checked out of the library on Saturday.

I guess, in retrospect, I should probably have scanned through it first. Before I found myself tucked up in bed with her that evening, innocently charging through this (it must be said, very funny and delightfully illustrated) book. In hindsight it's pretty frikkin' obvious it's a book about where babies come from right?

Especially when we got to this page:

I took a deep breath, reminded myself I'm a grown-up and soldiered through until I flipped pages and ... er ... wham!
 

Come on Babette, what did I ever do to you?

In one fell swoop you managed to;
a) drop me right in the oncoming path of Questions I May Not be Ready to Answer Just Yet (explaining the basics of the sex act just become soooo much more preferable to answering some of the questions these illustrations could inspire)
b) make me feel completely sexually unadventurous and boring (a skateboard??)
c) possibly change the way my young daughter feels about balloons forever.

Never mind all kinds of related queries pertaining to gimp balls, hallucinogenic drugs, bondage, gravity, anatomy and ornithology. Or maybe that's just me ...

However, I think Friday was as gobsmacked as I. She remained silent as I rapidly read to the end and whipped out another book, quickly changing the topic and hopefully her chain of thought.

But I know that little inquiring mind I've spawned. She'll file this somewhere, to be brought out and examined when she's ready. And one day, at the least convenient and most socially inappropriate time, she'll suddenly ask; 'Mummy, why was that Daddy in that book looking so worried while he mated with the Mummy?'

Thanks a lot Babette.

PS, I was going to apologise for how blue these photos came out but hey, it seems kind of appropriate. So I won't.