It all started in the bathroom with Kate. (If you are not a parent of little kids, you’ve really no idea how much you take going to the bathroom alone for granted.)

“Where is that thing you put in your underwear?” she asked me.

“What thing?”

“That thing you have to put in your underwear?”

I realize what she is talking about. “Oh, that’s called a panty liner. I don’t need one right now because I have a baby in my belly.”

(If you are not the mother of a small child, you have no idea of the awkward conversations you will have with your children in the bathroom, especially regarding menstruation.)

We get ourselves put together, and start downstairs. “Yeah, but after the baby, you’ll need those again.”

“Well, yes.”

“Until you get another baby.”

“Oh, I’m not going to get another baby after this one,” I assure her.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, Kate, I don’t think so.”

She is equally assured. “Yes, you are going to have this baby boy, and then you will need those things in your underpants again, and then you are going to get my baby sister.”

Which is really what this is about, because Kate doesn’t want a baby brother; she wants a baby sister.

I hope she doesn’t know something I don’t know.