That Damn Nurse

After many, many weeks of secrecy, Annie was finally able to learn the big secret about Aunt Connie having a baby in her tummy. Ben told her at preschool yesterday morning and she talked about it most of the way home.

"Now mom, it's going to be born juuuuust before Sam's birthday. After fall and winter and some of spring. Then, Ben will be a big brother TWO TIMES!"

At lunch, I asked Annie what she thought the baby would be, a boy or a girl. A boy, she said first, because Aunt Connie already has boys. A girl, she said a moment later. Because Aunt Connie doesn't have a girl yet. Hmmmm. Indecision. She cocked her head and shrugged. "Whoever put that baby in there . . . we don't know!" I think she meant that only the person who put the baby in there would know the gender, but it came out sounding like Aunt Connie has been less than discriminating in her relations and the baby-maker could be any number of strange persons. I called Connie to share this immediately.

This morning, I was snuggling Annie in her bed in the minutes after she'd woken up when she turned to me and asked, "Mom! When is that nurse going to put a baby in YOUR tummy?"

"What nurse?" I said.

"That nurse at the hospital."

"Well, I don't know. Mommy's already had two babies in her tummy, and that might be all the babies that I ever have in my tummy." This was greeted by an exasperated scowl. I have a feeling that the subject is going to come up again, with Annie doing some extensive lobbying for a new sibling of her own as Ben's new one grows. Luckily, I think I have a scapegoat: that uncooperative nurse at the hospital.