"I have one, two daddies at my house," the baby said, while sitting in the formal dining room, waiting for dinner. "Two daddies."
"You don't have any daddies," Jory quickly informed her, sitting next to her and across from me.
"Yes, I do," she insisted.
"No, you don't. There were no daddies when you came home," he reminded her.
Wait- - when you came home? My words are sinking in. I always say, when you came home blah, blah, blah. Subtle, not too heavy handed way to talk about adoption.
The baby dropped the conversation so I looked at my son and asked, "Where did the baby come home from?"
He paused, thought about it for a moment, looked me dead in the eye and simply said, "From heaven."
I will take that answer gladly. That kid is a smart one. And the baby is a little piece of heaven when she's not being a maddening terrorist. They all are. I'm one blessed mommy.
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