Don't plant the seed

I came dangerously close to having to have that discussion with AJ last night. A night when Jeff was working.

Oh no, no, no, no, NO! I am so not ready to have "the talk" with my first born. Not. At. All!

It started innocently enough on our drive home from daycare. But like so many car ride conversations with my 6-year-old son, the topic often changes at break-neck speed. Last night, it then suddenly careened wildly out of control.

We were talking about babysitters and the fact that two of our favorites are both moving away this month. AJ suggested we call a former babysitter from a couple years ago. I reminded him that she'd gotten married and moved away.

"How old was she when she used to babysit us?" AJ asked.

"I don't know. Probably 20 or so."

"That's how long it's been since Dad was in the Gulf War."

Hang on! Rapid conversation shift #1. Nothing out of the ordinary, though. AJ is obsessed with soldiers and battles.

"Yup," I agreed.

"I'm sure glad Dad came home okay from  the Gulf War."

"Me too," I answered. (We've had this conversation before.) "Otherwise I'd have never met him and you wouldn't be here."

"Why wouldn't I?" AJ asked. "You'd still be here to be my mom."

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Somebody smack me upside the head! What was I thinking to voluntarily get him thinking along those lines?!?!

"Aaaahhhh..." Suddenly I was choosing my words very carefully. "Because babies need a mom and a dad."

"Oh," AJ answered, digesting for a moment what I'd just said. "Because Dad brings you food and takes care of you and stuff?"

"Um... yes! It's something like that," I answered, feeling not even the slightest bit guilty for agreeing with his simplistic answer.

In the rear view mirror, I could see AJ still looked slightly perplexed. And suspicious.

I relented, "It's a little more than that, but you need to be a little older before you'd understand."

"Okay," AJ answered. "Maybe when I'm eight."

"Eight is good!" I quickly agreed.

"Or nine."

"Nine would be just fine, too. You can pick."

"I think nine," AJ answered. He'd probably (hopefully) already lost interest in what we were talking about.

And that's perfectly fine by me. The birds and bees can wait. I just bought myself two to three more years. I hope.