I have a 30 minute drive home and a six year old. This allows plenty of time for conversations like the following:
“Mom, I wish we had a girl horse.” “Well, we aren’t going to have a girl horse.” “But WHY not?! I want a girl horse. Baby horses are my FAVORITE.” “Even if we had a girl horse we wouldn’t have a baby horse.” “Why not? Are our horses all girls?” “No, they are boys but they can’t be daddies and besides, girl horses make boy horses act stupid.” “But why can’t our horses be daddies?” “Because the vet took out their boy parts so they wouldn’t act stupid.” “But why do the boy horses act stupid?” “Because they all want a girlfriend.” “Why can’t we just get them all a girlfriend, one for each of them?” “Because they would want all the girls for themselves.” “How do the babies come out of a person if they don’t cut open their stomach?” “They come down a special, stretchy tube” “Wow, it must be REALLY stretchy! What do you call those things the milk comes out of for the babies, you know like you fed me?” “Breasts” ‘Well, then why do they call them that other name?” “What, boobs?” “Yeah, boobs! I guess they call them that ’cause they’re floppy.”
Baby Horses and Floppy Boobs.
Welcome to my reality.