Not Happening.

Tonight at dinner, out of nowhere, Jack Henry mentioned that he’d like to have another brother, and then changed it to sister.

“Just to have someone to play with who’s not as crazy as the brothers,” he said.

Bennett, sitting next to me, the girl counting calories and eating a plate full of vegetables, looks down at my belly and says, laughing, “Look! I can see my baby sister now, right there!”

{GROAN. Please, Bennett. I’m already working on that. And by the way? Currently not my favorite child for pointing out the food baby/leftover baby weight/area that I’m storing up Dr. Pepper.}

I tell him, “Buddy, I will not be having more babies. Pretty sure of that.”

To which he wisely responds, “How do you know that for sure? I mean, Sarah had a baby when she was 99!”

He speaks truth. However, I’m fairly certain that Abraham did not use the surgical means we’ve employed to prevent the baby from coming before his wife was a centenarian. So without going into any details, I assured him again that I was finished bearing children (barring a miracle, clearly, that would defy the medical odds) and changed the conversation.

Family dinner. Always a good thing.

3 responses to “Not Happening.

  1. I don’t know what went wrong: when the kids were little, we NEVER had the interesting mealtime conversations that go on at your house!

  2. that’s awesome!!!

  3. That’s totally awesome! I’m very certain one day we will have the same convo and I’ll write the same post!

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