I Thought I Had Another Year or So to Prepare

We got the heck out of the house today and thank goodness, because my glowing feelings about Doing Nothing and Playing Constantly With Children screeched to a halt around 7:30 this morning when Annie had been awake for well over an hour and the girls were fighting over dried cherries, Tinkerbell markers, the letter bowl, and the temperature of their milk.

So I took them to get haircuts (just solid trims, really), and then took them to Holland and dropped them off at my parent's house so I could get a haircut (highlights, really, since Annie informed me yesterday, "Mom, your hair is BROWN with one string of blond"). And I must say, it was lovely to have a break from the questions and the bickering and the whiiiiiiiiiining. But then I obviously had to put them back in the car and drive them home, and that's when this little gem of a conversation happened:

Annie: "Mom, I wish you could put another baby in your tummy."

Me: "I know you do, honey."

Annie: "How does the baby get IN the tummy?"

Me, stalling: "Well, it just grows in there."

Annie: "Yeah, but how does it get IN there?"

Me: "Well, every grown-up girl has little eggs inside her body, (sees Annie make a disgusted face in the rearview mirror) and sometimes one of those eggs grows into a baby."

Annie: "What makes the egg grow into a baby?"

Me, freaking out internally, panicking, avoiding eye contact, stifling a bizarre urge to laugh hysterically, reminding self to give her only the answer to the specific question she asks, hoping she is easily distracted by something shiny along the road: "The daddy puts something special onto the mommy's egg and makes it grow."

Annie: "Does the mommy eat it?"

Me (NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!): "Nope." (Please don't ask the next question, pleasedontaskthenextquestion.)

Annie: "Huh. That's silly."

And I almost died of relief.