In the midst of a profound discussion regarding the differences between top soil, clay soil and sandy soil, Candy interrupted with an oh-so-pressing-question:
“Teacher, don’t you like babies?”
Initially, I thought she was referring to Monday, when I told her to stop being a baby and act her age (she is 9, afterall!) just because she didn’t get a homework check (she didn’t do her homework, admittedly rare, for her overeager self).
“Yes, of course I like babies. I love babies. Why?”
“Then why don’t you get married so you can have a baby?”
Dying inside (of laughter, that is).
“I don’t want a baby now.”
“But don’t you like boys?”
“Of course I like boys.”
“Then why aren’t you married?”
This is the same student who told me last week that, on Monday, her aunt is going to lay a baby. One thing at a time.
Ironically, the head teacher brought in her baby today, which she laid about 6 months ago.