I was just about to turn off eldest daughter's light; it was bed-time last night. "Yes?"
"I've got a question."
There's always a question at bed-time; delaying tactics usually. "What is it?"
"Well... I was just wondering. You know before I was born?"
"And you and Dad were in love?"
"Yes. Well - we still ARE, but yes..."
"It's just... How did your brain know to make a baby?"
Ahhh. "Well... It's not really your brain that decides if you have a baby, although being in love helps."
"So how DO you make a baby?"
Oh Gawd, here we go. "Well, all babies start off from a tiny tiny egg..."
"Yes, I know that, but how do they start growing?"
It's late, I want a gin and tonic, I can't think of the right words. I'm just going to cop out of this one for now. "Love, I really want to explain this to you properly but there isn't enough time now because you're meant to be going to sleep. So I'll talk to you about it another day, okay? Night night."
Breakfast-time this morning: me, rushing around making packed lunches, pouring cereal, trying to wake up. "Mum, will you explain now?"