Counting down to EIGHT YEARS of motherhood

12.10
In the car on the way to school, the child inquired about a few things that have apparently weighed heavy on her mind.
CHI:"Mom, are you ever going to marry a guy who'll be my Daddy?"
MOMMY:"You have a Dad."
C:"Yeah, but how did you decide he was my dad. You never married him. Where'd he come from?"
M:"Umm..." [long pause] "He's your dad because he helped make you."
C:"I don't get it."
M:"Do you know where babies come from?" [hoping she drops the subject or we arrive at the school FAST]
C:"I know they come out of butts. Gross"
M:"Not exactly..." [we arrive at school] "Maybe we'll talk about it this afternoon."
[she must've forgotten, because it didn't come back up. Sigh of relief.]

later that evening....

Chi is suffering from a pain in her neck (instead of being one in mine, of course).
She says, "Is this a sign that I'm getting old?"

12.11
profound wisdom from the old one: "Mom, you were born wrong."
Me: "What are you talking about?"
Old one: "Everyone likes chocolate. You were born wrong."
Me: "Your brother doesn't like chocolate."
Old One: "He was born wrong, too, then."

later that evening....
 
"Mom you should go to a bar and play spin the bottle, 'cause you need a date. You need a husband. You need anything besides just children."
 
Instead of being a bit disturbed by her assessment of my social life, I'm still trying to picture the spin the bottle game playing out in a club...