My mother and I have a running joke about turning ten years old. We say it's the magic age. Big things happen when you turn ten.
What sort of things? Well, when I was little, I was desperate for a dog. I begged and pleaded. Mum told me when I turned ten, I could get a dog and sure enough on my tenth birthday, I said, "Well, I'm ten now. Where's my dog?" (And yes, she delivered on the dog...a big, sweet Golden Retriever named Jessie.)
When Ethan asks me about babies and where they come from, I tell him that I'll explain it to him when he's ten.
And so, I kept this in mind this weekend while shopping with Adam and the boys at Target. Ethan and I both had to use the restroom, so the two of us went into the restroom designated for families (while Adam and Eli headed into the aisles to begin collecting the items we needed.)
Ethan went first and I averted my eyes to give him some semblance of privacy. While he stood facing the toilet, he looked down at the floor and his face lit up. "Dynamite sticks!!", he exclaimed with excitement.
"Huh?", I said.
"Dynamite sticks! There's a pink dynamite stick on the floor," Ethan explained. "Why is there dynamite on the floor!?".
He motioned for me to come over and see the "dynamite sticks" so I peered over the toilet to see a bright pink (and thank goodness, unused) tampon still in its applicator. And I have to admit, it looked a lot like a (very small) stick of dynamite. Actually, I have no idea what size a stick of dynamite is but I imagine it is much bigger than a tampon.
I managed to explain that it wasn't dynamite, but that's about as far as I got before I lost control of my laughter. Ethan continued on and on about the "dynamite sticks" demanding to know what it really was if it wasn't dynamite.
And in between giggles I managed to promise him, "I'll tell you when you're ten."