Babies Come From Sex

"Daddy, where was that picture taken?" asked Jaimito looking at a wedding picture of Laura and me.

"That picture was taken in Old San Juan, El Viejo San Juan, here in Puerto Rico, Jaimito."

"Oh." 

Olaia, who was brushing her hair in front of our mirror, asked, "Daddy, are you and Mommy happy that you have kids?"

"Oh, of course, Olaia.  We had you, decided it was so much fun that we had Jaimito.  Two wasn’t enough fun, so we had Javier.  And it was more fun.  Then we said, ‘Well, I think that’s sufficient fun.  We should stop.’  And along came Asier."

Jaimito and Olaia giggled.

"Daddy, somebody in my class said that babies come from S-E-X.  Is that true?"  She had spelled it out like it was some taboo word.  I was a little taken aback.  These things come from nowhere.  She has been in a summer camp these past couple of weeks with older kids from the fifth grade.  It would stand to reason that she is being exposed to the thoughts of older niños. 

"Yes, that is correct, Olaia.  Babies come from sex."

"Really!?"  Her eyes got wide.

"Yes, Olaia.  There’s nothing wrong with it.  It’s how you got here.  But you don’t know what it is, do you?  I don’t think the kids in your class know either."

"Um, no."

"Well, we’ll talk about it when you’re a little older.  It’s okay, when you feel like you want to know something, just ask.  There’s nothing wrong with it, though."

"Okay, Daddy."

We climbed into the car and pulled out to go to camp.  Olaia had been thinking about this, though, her little brain hadn’t let go of the discussion.  It was rolling around in there, bouncing and tumbling about. 

"Daddy, we were playing the game LIFE at the camp, and I had a boy and girl.  One kid wanted to get to be a grandparent.  That’s how you win the game.  Anyway, that’s when they started talking about S-E-X."  And she spelled it out again.

"Olaia, you don’t have to spell it out.  It’s not a bad word.  There’s nothing wrong with it."

"I just don’t want to say it.  It makes me uncomfortable."

"It shouldn’t."

"Well, I just don’t want to say it."

"Hehe, you know Olaia, without that word you wouldn’t be here."

"That is not true, Daddy.  It’s not the word, it’s what the word represents!"

"You are too smart, little girl.  That is absolutely right.  Wow! What a smartie." 

Once again, that little girl and her precision are after my heart… no have sunk deep into my heart, tied it up, seized it and made it her own.

*I just got off the phone with my smart ass academic wife, Laura (attending her sister’s 40th birthday in Rhode Island).  After recounting the story, her reaction was this:

"Well, of course – it is well understood that bi-lingual children are much more advanced in the abstractions of language, that is, they can recognize concepts apart from the words they represent at a much earlier age."