Continuing the baffling mystery of why I don’t have a baby….

Tuesday’s conversation:

Tuesday afternoon I’m sitting with a small group of children and we are discussing the “parts of the car” vocabulary cards. The hood, the wheel, the trunk, etc… No mention of a family sedan or anything, but here’s the conversation:

“Mrs. M, when will you have a baby?” asks a curious five year old.

“I don’t know,” I answer.

“Why don’t you have one?”

“I’m not sure,” once agian, choosing not to explain infertility. Suddenly, the conversation sounds like one I had with my parents when I stayed out too late–trying to plead the fifth.

“Do you and Mr. M live together or are you separated?”

“We live together,” I answer, wondering where in the heck this will go.

“You live together? So why don’t you have a baby?”

Time to change the subject, and quick, before she starts asking about sleeping arrangements, “Priyanka, do you know someone who is separated?”

“Yes, my dad’s sister.”

Apparently, her aunt has dodged giving her a cousin by playing the “separated” card….

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