Despite the fact that Peeta is 8 1/2 and has a baby sister, he has never shown a great interest in how babies are made. He is, however, very interested in science and anatomy and disease and all that crap. So I really should have seen it coming when, last night, after the kids and I got our flu shots and we took them out to dinner to celebrate their supreme bravery (neither one made a peep) and I had two beers to celebrate my supreme bravery (that sucker hurt, yo!), Peeta pulled out his My Body book (which, incidentally, says nothing about sex or babies).
I read it, and at the end, he asked me something about babies coming from a seed. No, Bud, I said. Remember? The sperm swims up to the egg and fertilizes the egg and that makes the baby. Yes, but Mama, how does the sperm get into the mom?
Oh, shit. Really, kid? Right now, when I am sleepy from my two beers and my arm hurts and it’s already too late for you to be going to bed? Okay. Here we go.
Me: Okay, I can tell you, but you might think it’s gross. Remember how we talked about sex and how it’s naked kissing?
Him: Fine, fine. Yeah, yeah. But how does it happen? Do the sperms just jump out of the dad’s mouth or something?
Me: (collapsing into hysterical laughter for five minutes and then recovering and blah blah penis vagina)
Him: (horrified) Ew!! You and Abbat did THAT!?
Me: Uh, yeah. It’s how we got Noodle.
Him: You were NAKED!? EVEN YOUR SHIRT?
Him: Does Sissy [my mother] know?
Me: (hoping that he’s not asking if my mother knows how to have sex) Does Sissy know what?
Him: Does Sissy know you did The Sex?
Me: I’m pretty sure she does, Bud. After all, I did have a baby.
Him: That is SO GROSS. I can’t believe you did that.
Me: Bud, all mammals have sex. It’s something that people do when they’re in love, but all mammals do it to make babies.
Him: Wait a minute. YOU DID THIS MORE THAN ONCE?
Me: Yeah, buddy. You don’t believe it now, but one day even you will want to have sex.
Him: (rolling around on the bed in horror and disgust) THAT IS DEE-SGUSTING! I can’t believe you did sex a million times! I thought it was just once!
Me: (thinking that Bucket wishes we did it a million times) I know, Bud. It’s horrifying. You’ll get over it, though. And you know you can ask me or Abbat anything you want about it, but you shouldn’t talk to your friends about it right now because I don’t know what they’re supposed to know.
Him: GROSS, MAMA! I don’t ever want to talk to my friends about that, ever!
Him: Okay, you can go now. Please don’t talk about this ever again.
Me: No problem, kiddo.