it's complicated

Life is so hard to sort out for little kids (and their parents) these days. We have the age old question floating around the house about how are babies made, where does wind come from (?!), when will I die, and do people live on other planets. Add to that issues about the disparity between real and fictionalized dinosaurs, pirates, and princesses, with a seasonal dose of Santa, flying reindeer and elves who make presents. Don't even get me started on the elves, gnomes and fairies that inhabit the Waldorf kindergartner's kingdom. I can hardly keep it all straight and I refuse to lie, opting for a lot of shrugging and, "I don't know. What do you think?" I don't really have a point here but I did get a kick out of Henry and Mia's play the other day in which Henry made her pay a fee of a hacky sack in a measuring cup to board his spaceship bound for mars with her babies. Shortly thereafter they told us they were, "Christmas pirates sailing the sea, visiting other pirate ships, to give them treats you can eat. And weapons."

questionable

In the car today we drove by a Mexican mercantile type store with a clothing display in the window. Out of nowhere:

Mia starts yelling and cackling: boobs! boobs! boobs!
Henry: what is she talking about?
Me: I don't know what's she's talking about.
Mia: I'm talkin' about boobs! boobs! boobs!

And she was. There was no possible way to keep myself from laughing. In all fairness they were pretty scantily clad mannequins. And this isn't coming from some cute little kid who is learning to talk and pointing out embarrassing things. She knows how to talk quite well and generally be appropriate in public, except when she isn't.