Well, At Least I Don't Have to Take Away His Keys

I'm a total TMI mom. I'm a firm believer that when children ask questions, they should receive answers. No hedging, no lying by omission (unless absolutely necessary to avoid nightmares)...the whole nine yards.

In my quest for "the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," I tend to put an emphasis on the whole part. Questions about the veracity of Santa Claus expand to include the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy - might as well get all that destruction of childhood out of the way with at once. A query as to the meaning of the phrase "September 11th" results in an extended discussion about imperialism and the necessity of looking past heinous acts to the underlying motivation.

And the birds and bees? Let's just say that if we end up with STDs and/or teen pregnancies in this house, it will not be because I introduced the topic of safe sex and abstinence too late.

So I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by this conversation from last night:

The Boy: Mom, can I have some of your beer?

Me: Nope. It's a grown-up drink.

The Boy: But mom! I don't even know how to drive! How am I possibly going to drink and drive? What am I going to do, take your keys and go out to the car and try to figure it out?