I thought I was going to have a grand old time when Karly said I could guest post today. Then I saw the femullet. And the hysterical post from that mother who has probably been killed in her sleep from telling the story about her daughter’s first period. And now slacker mom has taken over my territory — being slack. So what am I going to write about? Even if I do get to use the "F-word"?

Does it matter? It’s Sunday on Labor Day weekend. Who’s on the Internet anyway?

Well, I am. So I’m going to tell a story I can’t tell over at my blogs, LifePundit.net and smellshorsey.com. Thanks, Karly!

‘Long about the time my daughter, whom I’ll call "Lily" because that’s not her name, got interested in, as she said, "The differences between boys and girls," (age five), both our church (PCUSA) and our pediatrician said it was time to tell her about human reproduction.

"But she’s only five!" Still, they insisted. And they must have known what they were talking about, because sure enough, the teachable moments rolled in. Of course, my husband, whom I’ll call "Paul" because that’s not his name, was always out of state when these teachable moments arrived, so he got to miss out on these very interesting and nerve-wracking conversations. But I did it.

When she was six we were at Myrtle Beach during biker week (not recommended) when we happened upon some rather lusty horseshoe crabs at the Ripley’s Aquarium. Yes, these horseshoe crabs in the "petting tank" (well named, huh?) were doing it. Lily was doing what six-year-olds do at a petting tank when this big tattooed Biker Guy came up with his friends. He watched the amorous pair of horseshoe crabs for a minute, then said to his friends, "Heh! That are they doing?"

Lily looked up at him and said, "Why, they’re mating." The big Biker Guy looked shocked but didn’t say anything else. I suspect he still hasn’t opened his mouth. How studly can you be when you don’t even know "it" when you see it, yet a six-year-old girl does?

I must say that it was easier to explain things to a five-year-old than it would be to a pre-teen, but there have been moments when I wish that she thought a stork brought her. For example, there was that phase where she wanted a younger sister. Rather than give some other excuse, I just said I was too old.

Now, Lily arrived right before my biological clock ticked its last tock, at least for reproduction, and it was a miracle that she got here. I felt like I had crossed the finish line and won the race when she was delivered healthy, perfect and perfectly beautiful. Though I have often regretted not starting our family sooner and having more children, that’s just not the way it was. I got my Lily, and I am greatly blessed and happy.

So, when Lily wanted a younger sister, I told her the truth. "Mom is too old. So sorry. We’ll get you another kitten."

Then Lily met some of her friends’ younger siblings, and decided that being an only child is a much better deal. She began to worry that perhaps I wasn’t too old (even as she was aging me every day). I reassured her that I was too old and not to worry about it.

Now, Paul didn’t know about these conversations. All he knew was that we had told Lily that in order to conceive, parents "cuddled in a special way."

So, he was driving along minding his own business with Lily in the back seat when she suddenly announced, "Dad, I’m so glad that you and Mom are too old to cuddle in a special way any more."

His first reaction was fear. Where did Lily get this piece of information? Was she correct? Was he about to become celibate? "Who told you that?"

"Mom."

He thought about it. And I’d like to tell you that the man has been bringing me roses every week ever since, but instead I’ve been buying them myself at the grocery store.

I’m not too old to cuddle in a special way. But if Lily has learned what she needs to know, so have I. You can have a great husband. You can be a great cuddler-in-a-special-way. You can be a biker and not know sex when you see it. And you can be a wife, mother and person who needs flowers, and the only way you’re going to get them is to buy them yourself.

Now, I know this is a random ending to this story and I know I missed my chance to use the "F" word, even while talking about it, but that’s just the way it is. I bought gorgeous pink roses with white undersides last week, and classic red roses this week. And maybe there’s some cuddling in a special way in my future. Who knows. I know there’s no baby sister on the horizon, but I do hope you’ll come visit me at my own web sites, LifePundit.net and smellshorsey.com.

Happy Labor Day weekend! Get off the computer and go outside and have fun!

Anne