Ah, the stork...
I'm seven months pregnant with my third child and my other two ask a lot of questions about said kid. Most of them are of the "when is the baby coming?" "Can we name the baby Alaska?" variety. But my five-year-old son has a particularly inquiring mind and last week asked me a question I just didn't have an answer to. We were in the car on the way to camp drop-off at 8:30 a.m. and this happened:
ALEX: "So, mom, how is the baby gonna get out of your stomach?"
ALEX: "Are they going to cut up your stomach to get the baby out?"
ME: "No, babe, they're not cutting me up."
ALEX: "So how's the baby going to get out of your belly?"
ME: "Well babe, it's kind of…
And then we pulled into the camp lane and he spotted his favorite CIT and I was off the hook. It's a fair question, don't get me wrong. And it's certainly better than asking how the baby got in my belly. But it was early, I hadn't had coffee, we were driving and I just didn't have the words yet. I'm pretty