Sep 17 2008
Can you hear me now?
"Mom, the sixth graders are having flower sex," Nathan announced from the backseat on the way home after school.
Flower sex? What is this, some kind of new playground slang? I don't remember learning about that sort of thing until third grade. Wondering what the heck the sixth graders were up to (and why do the kindergarteners know about it) I asked Nathan to repeat himself.
"Flower sex. The six graders have flower sex. They have to feed them and take them everywhere they go," Nathan explained.
Between his stuffed up nose and stuttering, and my own head cold, I was having problems hearing the boy. Then I remembered the sixth grade lesson plan I posted on the school's website. (I'm the Web Mom.) Finally, a little light went off in my congested head.
"Oh, flour sacks. Nathan, do you mean flour sack babies?" I asked.
"Yeah, mom, flour sack babies," Nathan said. "The big kids have to take care of them." I imagined him rolling his eyes and thinking "like duh, mom," exasperated at my lack of understanding.
I explained that flour sack babies showed the big kids how hard it is to take care of a real baby. Having vivid memories of his colicky infant sister, Nathan thought this was kind of silly. After all, it's a sack of flour, not a real baby.
I drove towards home, realizing Nathan will have his own flour sack baby in six years. I'm looking forward to being a grandma.
