We’re not sure how birds or bees fit into the story

Buster has developed quite a curiosity these days. Formerly, the pinnacle of his curiosity was wanting to know where I had hidden the Tootsie Rolls. Now, he has blossomed into a regular preschool philosopher, wondering things like: “How do clouds get up in the sky?”

Wondering about clouds is, of course, a slippery slope leading ultimately to a quagmire of curiosities about human conception. Being the high thinker he is, Buster would never ask such a crude question as “Where do babies come from?” No, Buster has feelings for the old man, and would not just conk him on the head with that one. He demonstrates a certain finesse in softening it to “How do people get to be real?”

If only we could all handle the topic of sexual reproduction in such a mature manner.

Is it a tree or a shrub? My Sex Ed classes left me with more questions than answers?

For the record, I don’t ever recall Big Brother asking about the origin of babies. I suspect he stumbled upon the notion that it had something to do with getting married, which means liking a certain girl, and worse, having everybody in the world know you like her. You might even have to hold hands. It’s just one big downward spiral. After all that, I think he doesn’t want to know where babies come from. If you tried to tell him, he’d probably cover his ears and hum as loud as he could.

Buster wants to know. And since he is preparing to venture into the big world of kindergarten, I figured I better just hunker down and tell him the truth. That truth, of course, is that babies grow on trees. To be clinically correct about it, it may actually be large, woody-stemmed shrubs they grow on. I’m not completely sure of the proper classification.

Babies get big and stinky if you let them hang on the tree too long.

I realize the miracle of birth is hard for a young child to wrap his head around, so if he has reason to doubt my explanation I will show him my visual evidence. He can see for himself the big, ripe children, ready to be picked from the Baby Tree/Baby Woody-stemmed Shrub. Unfortunately, I have no photos of the fresh babies – only the overripe ones. It’s gotten to be late in the harvest season around our parts.

Maybe you think I should tell him the other story of where babies come from, but that’s even harder to believe and I don’t have any pictures to support that theory. We’re dealing with conception one baby step at a time. We’ll stick with the tree hypothesis, at least until the two of us can figure out how clouds get in the sky.


16 comments on “We’re not sure how birds or bees fit into the story

  1. GoofyEd says:

    Reblogged this on fridayfrivolities and commented:
    Come on Scott…surely you’ve observed birds in the bush. And remember to mention that just one in the hand may be better in certain situations, two in the bush is critical. That’s how they fit in. Bees, on the other hand…or either hand for that matter, are a whole different story.

  2. stomperdad says:

    My 5 year old has started asking questions like “who was the first person on Earth” and “how to babies come out of mommy’ bellies?” and “how big is the universe” There’s a pretty funny book called “Mommy Laid an Egg” that explain reproduction. I found a video of someone reading on YouTube. I didn’t show it to the 5 year old.

  3. Gibber says:

    What other story?

  4. Just Joan says:

    What ever happened to the stork? 🙂

  5. Lynn says:

    Well I have to admit, I have never heard the tree version of this story 😂

  6. Ahdad says:

    I still remembered the dreaded “talk” with Dude. I think he was 11. I had a book and everything and even though it was THE most awkward moment of my life, I’m very grateful that I had the opportunity to tell him how babies grow from a certain type of bean that Mommies swallow.

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