I am quietly cooking Red Beans and Rice (I'll type up a recipe later) while Rocky and Dibs are playing and discussing things at the kitchen table completely oblivious to their surroundings or the fact that anyone else is even in the room with them.
Rocky: I'm glad I'm not a girl!
Dibs: Why?
Rocky: I don't want to get cut in the stomach. (Here he is referring to the c-section I had with my last delivery.)
Rocky continues: Besides, How DO babies get in the stomach anyway? Don't you think that's a good question?
At this point I am thinking that is an extremely good question for a five year old. None of my other children even thought of this question until they were MUCH older. Dibs, who is seven, hasn't yet asked me this question. I keep about my work quietly as I wait for the loud "Mom!" which thankfully never came. Instead, this wonderful exchange continued as follows and I do not make these things up:
Dibs: Why don't you pray! God knows everything! He even knows what 1,000 times 1,000 is!
That answer satisfied both Rocky and Dibs as moments later they rushed outside to play.
My Red Beans and Rice turned out nicely as well. Thank you, God. :-)
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