How did you make me?

How did you make me?

Mamãe, did you marry my dad?

No, sweet girl, I didn’t marry your dad. 

So how did you make me?

(Thinking, thinking, thinking) 

(Look at the oldest, who’s in the car, too – he’s got nothing, either)

Your dad and I had sex and that’s how we made you. You don’t have to be married to make babies. 

(Blank look) Oh. Okay. 

The cognitive flexibility it takes to be a part of this family is superhero-level.