Breakfast with my 2-year-old son and 3-year-old daughter
Micah sits in his high chair, innocently eating his piece of toast–on a fork.
Mara: “Micah, you don’t use your fork with your toast. Your fork is for your egg.”
——–
Micah: “Hee-HONK! Hee-HONK!”
Mara: “Micah, it’s Hee-haw, not ‘Hee-Honk.’ There’s no ‘honk.'”
Nothin’ gets past big sister!
——–
Our three-year-old continues to ask deeper questions.
For instance she asked: “How do they make bacon for the stores?”
Me: “Bacon comes from a pig.”
Mara has a look that she gives me that says ‘I’m-so-confident-that’s-not-true-that-I’m-not-even-going-to-react-to-that-one.’
She gave me that look. And asked again, “No–how do they really make bacon?”
I told her it’s true. They kill the pigs and cut up the meat and take it to the store.
Still not fully convinced, she requested: “Show me a picture of the pig getting killed.”
I did. (This is the age of the internet.)
That pretty much ruined her breakfast.
You showed Mara a picture of a pig being killed?????? You have been married to Daniel for too long bc that is just cruel…
I don’t feel it is fair to blame this on me. Mara was very insistent. If she’s old enough to ask the question, she should be old enough to handle the truth. (I’m not obligating myself to that philosophy going forward, however. She has already asked how the baby got in mommy’s tummy. I side stepped that one.)
By the way, we had a similar conversation the night before about chicken legs coming from chickens. I really thought that was obvious . . .