Remember this conversation?
Well in the middle of sing-song jabber about eating eggs with a fork and fishing in the lake and sunshine and everything nice, he said.
–now I didn’t brace myself for this, but you might want to. I wish to God I had.–
“Mama, do you have a big ol’ hole in you?”
“That’s how the baby got in your tummy. I bet you have a big ol’ hole in you somewhere and that’s where Daddy put the baby in.”
Crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap.
I dodged a little at first, and even lamely tried to deny it by saying, “Well no, I uhh… don’t, uhh you know the baby was teeeeeeny teeeeeny tiny when he went in my tummy…”
“I think you just probly have a big ol’ hole.”
What could I do? I quickly and quietly admitted that yes, ladies do have a hole and that’s where daddies put babies.
And then I died.