Does Amazon have sort of Creeper Watch List? I wonder because usually I get orders from there crazy fast, but when I finally managed to order an entire stack of books about sex (An entire stack because you can never have enough books filled with naked cartoon people. Obviously.), it took forever for them to show up. In the meantime, Alexis kept asking and asking and asking how babies get in a mommy's tummy. I was starting to worry that delaying was turning it into a Big Deal, which was exactly the opposite of what I was trying to do. Anyway, I'm probably on the Creeper Watch List because there are a LOT of books about sex in our house now.
After reviewing them all, I decided this one was exactly what the doctor ordered (for now):
It directly answered her question, but was more focused on the theme that all of your bits and pieces are yours and you don't really need to be flashing them all over town, even if it is Mardi Gras and you have an affinity for crappy plastic beads. It was perfectly age appropriate, completely straight-forward, and didn't have a whole lot of text, so I was able to fine-tune the content to be even more appropriate for She Who Asks Too Many Questions. (Pics of every page of the book are on Flickr because I like to see how many Creeper Watch Lists I can get on.)
The initial conversation with Little Miss Wants To Know It All went about as well as I expected. That is to say, I was all sorts of squirmy as she pointed at a picture of a cartoon penis and declared it "silly looking," but, c'mon, truer words have never been spoken. She asked a few questions, I answered, it was all a Very Not Big Deal.
Which was exactly what I wanted.
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I was making dinner when Mr. Husband burst into the room, glaring at me. "I forgot to tell you," he started. "Your daughter . . . she . . . last night . . . " he stammered.
The pained look on his face left me with the impression that our daughter had stabbed his dog with a unicorn horn. It was a mixture of horror and fear and awe, an odd and confusing combination. I made an annoyed face at him and continued to throw together the vegetable paella.
Finally regaining his composure, he blurted out, "Last night, your daughter said babies come from here," he gestured wildly with his hands, leaving me with the impression that his underwear had caught fire.
I tried very hard not to laugh. I failed.
"What?" I asked. "She wanted to know, so I told her." It's no secret that I love to see the man squirm.
"Why couldn't you just tell her that magical fairies get them from storks who live in a hospital or something?" he asked.
I didn't bother to answer, mostly because I would have admitted that any and all stress of having to deal with doing The Talk with her had just melted into a pile of AWESOME because now she has a whole new arsenal of tools to use in her crusade to make him crazy.
SCORE!
