I dared to tell the Internet that Alexis hasn't asked any questions about where babies come from in many, many months. Guess what happened an hour later? GO AHEAD, GUESS.
You'd think I would know how this game works by now. Clearly I don't.
It really wasn't a big deal because I have been waiting for the questions. I mean, OBVIOUSLY there are things worth asking if you're an 8-year old girl eagerly anticipating the arrival of a baby brother or sister. She has lots and lots of questions, but it took until today for one to fall under the umbrella of things that are part of The Talk.
"How is the baby going to get out of you, anyway?" she casually asked.
Excellent question. Great question. No, seriously, THAT IS A FANTASTIC QUESTION. My doctor asked me that exact question just a week ago and then looked at me like I had four heads when I admitted I hadn't thought about it. Alexis was a c-section because she was a giant and there was no choice about things. This one could go either way, but I figure I have plenty of time to think that through and make any decisions. Why would I schedule a c-section now when I can procrastinate until it's obvious whether or not it's necessary, right? Right.
Given that Alexis was a c-section, I answered the question by saying, "Well, a doctor had to cut you out of me." Moments later, she was aware of the whole scar thing and properly mortified.
"Did it hurt?" she asked.
There's no point in lying about these things, so I didn't. I also explained that medicine makes lots of things better and that it was worth it.
Her reaction was perfect. PERFECT.
"Mom, I am so sorry," she told me. Moments later, she offered to get me ice cream and give me a foot massage.
See? I don't even have to hold the c-section thing against her. She has already made it up to me and then some.