It was time. Too early for my liking. But Monkey Boy was asking. Genuinely this time, not just because he felt he had to ask something.
The “sex” one.
“Mum, what’s sex?”
He’d asked the same a few days earlier, and I’d managed to get around it by discussing the “sex” of a baby, or a person. But he’d clued on, and wanted to know about “Sex sex, you know? Not the sex of a person, I get that, but ‘sex’, you know, ‘sex’?”
I bought myself some time by saying that as soon as we’d been bathed and were in bed, we’d get out the books I’d bought for such an occasion and we’d work through them together. And he could ask me anything he wanted to know, or wasn’t sure about, or wasn’t explained properly.