Each night, Gorbulas and Fastoph sit on either side of me on the couch and snuggle as they fall asleep. It is actually incredibly uncomfortable, but the pay off I get for the double cuddles is well worth it. Last night as Fastolph was sitting there, he patted my tummy.
Fastolph:Mom, you're getting fat.
Me: Do you know why I am getting fat?
Fastolph:Yeah! Because you eat too much!
Me:No, there's a baby in thee. That's your little brother or sister.
Fastolph: You ate a baby?!? I would never eat a baby. It's yucky in there.
I decided that was enough of a birds and the bees conversation for one day.
Just when you think you know someone, they go and eat a baby. How could you commit such a terrible act?
Babies and ale!
no kidding, that's why we always use the word "womb" when referring to baby's abode! i had a young cousin who for years thought babies were made when ladies swallowed watermelon seeds.
I love Fastolph stories. To heck with a blog, Pansy, you should write a book full of his little sayings.
I love how his little brain works.
You have to admire the simplicity of children
Correction, sister person: Babies, venison and nut-brown ale (whatever that may be)!
Last time I was pregnant my 4 yr. old asked me "When's that thing was gonna hatch?"