In the car* this week The Babe announces he is not going to have any children when he grows up. He adds "I'm only going to have dogs." And he is EXCITED about this prospect.
My heart sinks about as low as it can get. My babies are supposed to have copious amounts of sex with their future wives and produce tons of loud, screaming, obnoxious grandchildren that Mike and I can spoil until they stink.
And, at four, The Babe is bowing out of this plan.
I had to ask why. And his response? "Just because."
So I let it lie through the red light. For me, there was a palpable sadness in the car. For him? Probably contemplating what he's going to name our granddogs.
After the light changes I ask "So are you happy or sad you aren't going to have kids?"
"Oh. Happy!" was the quick response.
I figure there is no time too early to impress upon my children that they WILL produce heirs to the Nowell name. This isn't in question. And the heirs will not have anal glands that have to be expressed. Dang it.
"How do you know this?" I ask, more than a little bewildered.
And his response was as straight-faced as a man facing execution. There was no hint of BS or let-me-see-if-I-can-get-Mom's-goat "Well. Jesus just didn't make any children for me."
I guess that settles it.
Of course, Jesus may still change his mind between now and the time he reaches the age of fathering. But, for now, I can count on more dogs in my future.
*All great kid revelations come whilst we are in the car. Discussions regarding the birds and bees, who goes to Heaven, where did dogs go when they die--all hashed out during carpool, rush hour, or road trips.