I generally enjoy that our apartment is so, uh, compact. Cozy, that's the word I'm looking for.
Since Madge is getting near ten and her body is beginning to develop, we got her some books and started telling her about things.
Us to doctor: When does a kid start needing deodorant? Is nine too young?
Doctor: No. Pre-puberty is anywhere from eight to ten.
When the smelling salts did their trick and I remembered what time zone we're in, we decided it was time for me to learn a little something about the female body; up to now I've been groping in the dark.
Metaphorically, of course.
Anyway, Madge is a good student. A friend of hers was over today on a playdate and Madge was sharing her knowldege.
And here is the result:
The same room is the last place where a father wants to be
when he hears his daughter saying,
"A period is when you bleed as you pee."
And the bedroom is the terminus of daddy's quiet stroll
when he hears his daughter whisper,
"And do you want to know what goes in that hole?"