Some time ago a friend of mine was asked by her precocious seven-year old son, “Mommie? Where do I come from?”
She broke out in a cold sweat and started painstakingly explaining to the little boy about the birds and the bees and how when Daddy shows his love for Mommy … and on she went in what she considered an honest and forthcoming rendering of the facts of life.
When she was finished she asked him nervously, “Do you have any questions?”
He screwed up his face and pushed his hands in his pockets, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Well see … Mrs. Carter asked everyone where they came from. Jimmy said he came from Cincinnati … so ?”
“I just wanted to know where I came from, is all.”
In The City with,
Credit for this photo here.