when i was just under 4 years old, my mother became pregnant with my sister, lori. my parents being the people that they are decided that, rather than lie or invent some phony method of explaining how my sister came into being and how she was going to come into the world, instead decided to be honest with me; as honest as adults can be with a 4 year old when it comes to matters like this. this parenting method was the primary reason i was never told that santa gave me my presents, that i never got an easter basket on easter itself, and was never told that the tooth fairy was coming. the secondary reason in the case of santa was that my parents felt it was a good way of explaining the difference between grace and works to me.

a tasteful book was purchased that contained tasteful anatomical drawings and tasteful, toned-down explanations of conception, tailored for young children. if i am not mistaken, my parents also sat me down and explained some things to me, again in words and ideas that would be suitable for a 4 year old. and so the concept that daddy had planted a seed in mommy which would grow inside mommy's belly until it came out was introduced into my head.

one small problem existed with this beautiful scenario. though i grasped the above concept fairly readily, the actual process by which daddy could plant a seed in mommy was a hazy concept in my mind. some part of my mind, desperate to fill the knowledge gap my ignorance afforded, supplied the idea that this occurred while mommy and daddy were kissing. a troublesome idea, since at the time i had a 'girlfriend' that i had kissed. i have a very strong memory of being worried that i had gotten my girlfriend pregnant.

and so it came to pass that me, my father, and my quite pregnant mother went to visit my grandparents one day. as my grandfather walked across the dining room towards me, my parents dutifuly tried to get me to tell him what i had learned about where my little sister was coming from while i shuffled my feet and looked down.

'go on, jay. tell poppa what you learned about where babies come from. go on.'

my grandfather knelt in front of me and asked what i had learned. so i lifted my head and looked him in the eye.

'daddy planted his seed in mommy's mouth.'

twenty years later, when my grandfather went in for back surgery, i thought back on that day and wondered if the fit of hysterics he collapsed into was not somehow responsible, even in some small way. i think of that...and really wish someone had been there to take a picture of my parents faces.