Sundays Are For Sebastian Revisited (#111)

When you read this, I will be on a plane, somewhere over the Atlantic, returning from my week-long cruise up the Danube from Budapest, Hungary, to Vilshofen, Germany. As I do when I am away from home, I revisit a previous Sundays Are For Sebastian. This one comes from July, 2015, when Seba was six.

Sebastian is my six-year old and he says some of the funniest things–we have no idea where he gets his material since his mother and I are rather boring, serious people.

The other day, after completing a very large breakfast, Sebastian started rubbing his belly and posed the following: “Daddy, how are babies made?”

Me: “Ummmm.” [Awkward pause–my wife has ordained that I handle all questions reproductive, but I was not quite ready for the question from my five year-old.] “I will tell you when you are a bit older.”

Seba: “But I want to know now! How are babies made?”

Me: “Ummm, like I said, you will find out when you are a bit older.”

Seba: “When someone has a baby in their belly it looks like they ate a bunch of food–is that how it happens? You eat a lot of food and then a baby comes out?”

Me: “Ummm, not exactly…”

Seba: “Then how?”

Me: “Like I told you–you will find out when you are a bit older.”

Seba: “Does Nathan [his brother] know?”

Me: “Not really.”


Me: “You know, only girls have babies.”

Seba: “Really?”

Me: “Yes.”


Seba: “OK. Never mind.”





About the drunken cyclist

I have been an occasional cycling tour guide in Europe for the past 20 years, visiting most of the wine regions of France. Through this "job" I developed a love for wine and the stories that often accompany the pulling of a cork. I live in Houston with my lovely wife and two wonderful sons.
This entry was posted in Family, Humor, Wine and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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