Birds and the Beez

Unfortunately, I have to get a birthday present soon for a birthday party this weekend, which means we will probably make a Target run, home of the Big-Red-Egg-Hatching-a-Baby Logo sign.

Maybe I can buy some time if I go to Wal-Mart? Or maybe I could send his father? Or I could see if I can Facebook the girl who used to live up the street to come shed some light on this topic for my boy? 

If only Judy Blume wrote books for grown ups… 


I have abandoned my strategy of letting it go until he brings it up again. Instead I am adopting Mark Twain’s “if you have to eat a frog, best not to look at it too long” strategy instead. And as a slightly less profound poet Rod Stewart said, “Tonight’s the Night.”

He was already reading. So I tucked my little innocent boy’s covers down around him and brushed back from his eyes the brown bangs that were badly in need of a haircut. I leaned down to kiss his little forehead right before I launched into the “talk” that he seemed keen to have the other day.

“Honey,” I began, “Do you remember the question you asked me when we were at Target?”

Blue eyes glanced up at me over the top of his Harry Potter book, then blinked once, and then twice. “What question?”

“Oh…” I said, incredulous that I was getting a pass once again. “Nothing, honey. Good night.”

“Good night, Mom.”

 Zooooooooom (sound of bullet whooshing past my Matrix-like back bend maneuver.) Dodged it again. For now.


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