The naked truth

“You didn’t make Li’l Fatty, Mummy did,” Master Seven declared to Learner Dad as they played Yahtzee in the lounge room.
“I beg your pardon? I helped make him,” Learner Dad protested.
I stopped stacking the dishwasher and listened.
This was going to be hilarious.
Any second now Master Seven would ask Learner Dad exactly how he had ‘helped make’ Li’l Fatty.
But he didn’t, only going on to say: “No you didn’t. Mummy has eggs inside her and one of them hatched into her tummy and that was Li’l Fatty. Same way I was made.”
Now I have never lied to Master Seven about where he came from.
He’s just never asked.
So this theory that I basically functioned like a chook, he’d either deduced himself or had been told by someone else.
The conversation was promptly dropped, much to my mix of relief and disappointment.
“So, what would you have told him?” I asked Learner Dad later that night.
“The truth,” he answered.
I looked at him, agape.
“What? The whole penis vagina story?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, though he now looked far less sure of himself. “We have to tell them how babies are made some time, don’t we?”
“Surely not when they’re seven!” I said.
“Well, they have sex ed at school really young now, don’t they?” Learner Dad asked.
“He’s only grade two. They just teach them body awareness-type stuff at that age,” I replied.
I thought about it.
I’d had this conversation with my mother.
She said Master Seven had once asked her where Li’l Fatty had come from, to which she’d replied: “your mum and dad made him with a whole lot of love”.
But how long is a kid of this generation going to be satisfied with that?
When do we give them the right answers?
“Won’t he start looking at everything differently when we tell him the truth?” I asked Learner Dad.
Girls, his body – it would all take on new meaning.
It had been a big enough deal when he’d come home from prep to inform me he no longer had a ‘willy’, it was a ‘penis’.
(It’s since become a ‘doodle’ but that’s beside the point.)
For now we’ve been granted a reprieve.
But when the questions are asked again, and they will be, should I point Master Seven in Learner Dad’s direction to be told what will no doubt come across a horror story to an innocent little boy?
Or should I feed him the soft version: ‘special cuddles between mummies and daddies who love each other very much’?
Maybe I’ll just stick with his chicken theory.
And hope I’m not about to get clucky.