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. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s