My daughters have deposition skills

So, I dodged the "Mommy, why don't we do more church things?" question at Notre Dame. (Having rarely stepped foot in a church except for weddings and funerals while growing up, I happily cede this area to Ed). But, as my daughters' captive audience, you had to know there were going to be some tough questions on this tour. And, lo and behold, they have better deposition skills than me.

Let me share two scenes:

Scene 1

"Mommy," Anna began, looking up at me while we were getting ready to brush teeth, "I don't understand how a baby gets in a woman's tummy. I mean, how does it get inside?" (She points to her belly for emphasis.)

Oh, sure it seems crazy now, but at the moment, discussing the miracle of in vitro fertilization seemed like a good path. I could talk about science and test tubes.

"But, Mommy," Sophie interrupted my medical miracle lecture, "how do most people have babies, like, without test tubes?"

So, the woman has an egg and the man has a seed.... "And, how do they get the egg and the seed together to make a baby, then?"

You get the drift, right? Be wary of all conversations that start when you brush your teeth.

Scene 2

Anna has a very loose tooth and we are anticipating a visit from the Tooth Fairy. Ever since Sophie's first tooth fell out, the Tooth Fairy has always left a present and a note for every tooth lost. The Tooth Fairy did the same thing for me when I was a child. Back in those days, the Tooth Fairy typed out her notes on a Smith-Corona typewriter that had the same typeface as my dad's. These days, she has taken to the more personal note in a cleanly printed hand.

"Well," I said, having given Anna's tooth a little nudge after gelato, "the Tooth Fairy is going to have to find us on the road."

"The Tooth Fairy is here, Mommy," said Anna. "You're the Tooth Fairy."

"No way," I demur. "I don't have time to be flying around the world, putting presents under kids' pillows. I already have a full time job."

"Oh, yes, you are!" Sophie chimes in. "We have evidence. I woke up one morning and my tooth was still under my pillow. Then, I saw you come into my room and I pretended to be asleep and you put something under my pillow! And, I found one of my teeth in a box in your office. And," she grinned with the coup de grace, "your handwriting is exactly like the Tooth Fairy's."

I could feel the heat of the white light. What's next, waterboarding?

"I'm her assistant from time to time?" Aaghh, I am soooo weak.