“We don’t pee on the barbeque,” he says in a tone that suggests I’m a deviant. “Anyway, I gots a question for you.”
“Sure, kid. Shoot.”
“Are you gunna to have a baby now that you’reprop’lymarried.”
“Properly.”
“‘’Swat I said.” His face scrunches. “Aunty Lala has the dress and flowers, and you said the boring words. And Daisy got flowers, too. Weddings.” He shrugs. “They’re as boring as batships. No pass the parcel,” he says, throwing up his hands. “No bouncing castle or clowns or race cars. No party bags, neither. And you’re not even allowed to touch the cake.”
“Did you touch the cake?”
“Just this much,” he says, holding up his finger. “But don’t worry.” He licks his knuckle. “I don’t pick my nose anymore.”
“Good to know.” Looks like I’m sticking to savory today.
When Daisy appears and Gus looks perturbed.
“I haven’t asked him yet,” he whisper-shouts. Over his hand, not behind. I wonder where this kid got his lack of smarts sometimes.
“But you’ve been talking ages,” she whispers back, her eyes avoiding mine.
“I was gettin’ to it!”
“Okay, you guys. What’s the problem?”
“Daisy wants a little sister. But not mine. I already asked.”
“Well, honey…”
“I know if Lavender has a baby, it won’t really be my sister. But Lavender said that doesn’t really matter because the family you choose is just as important as any other.”
“Lavender’s right,” I say, taking her sweet face in my hand. “You are just as special as any son or daughter we might have.”
“You mean, you might have a baby?” Her expression scrunches. “I mean, Lavender might?”
“Well, you never know.” I’d better run this by my lovely wife before they pin me down to a timeline.
“It’s easy, you know,” Gus puts in.
“What is?”
“Making babies,” he says, holding out his hands reasonably.
“It just takes a mum and a dad and—”
“I’m really not sure we should be talking about this.”
“—and love,” he finishes, regardless.
“Love.” I smile, relieved. “Love does make a difference.”
“And a penis,” Gus adds. The words of a sage. “You need one of those.”
“Eww!” Daisy says, turning to her cousin in disgust. “Really?”
What the fuck. “I think this conversation has gone on long enough.”
“And something else, too. But I’m not ’posed to talk about it until I’m older.”
