We had a most surreal dinner conversation tonight. I can only recount bits of it, but the overall effect is deeply disturbing in the annals of parenting.
It all started with Nick, who asked, "Do chickens mate?"
This question was apparently prompted by his thoughts about someone who had a baby without being married. If you’re confused, that’s okay. Neither George nor I have any idea what chickens mating has to do with babies born out of wedlock. This led to a discussion about adoption and George explaining the difference between biological parents and legal parents.
George: So, if you were adopted, who would be your real mother? The woman who gave birth to you but whom you had never met, or the woman who raised you and took care of you? Who would be your real mother?
Nick [Pause. Grin.]: Megan Fox.
I lost it, almost spewing a delightful Cline Zinfandel through my nose. When I got control of myself, I asked what made him say Megan Fox. He just grinned.
George: Is it because she’s indescribably hot?
Nick: Yeah. What dad said.
A bit later, after a discussion of boyfriends and girlfriends, Nick ended this deeply disturbing conversation with this little nugget: “I’m just glad there are two different genders.”
HE IS TEN!!!! Is he too young to read Oedipus Rex? I think that ancient Greek play would be useful at this point in his education.
We are in so much trouble.