Where Babies Come From

Dori: Hwermie? Do yoo know where babies come from?

Herm: *startled* Why don’t you ask Mom?

Dori: So, yoo don’t know? That’s dissy pointing. I thought yoo knew ev’furrything.

Herm: Well, of course I know.

Dori: *blink blink* I’m waiting.

Herm: Well…

Dori: If yoo don’t know, tell me. Don’t bamboozy me with some fairy tale just to appear smarter.

Herm: I wouldn’t do that.

Dori: *checks watch* Forty seconds into the conversation and still no answers.

Herm: I know the answer. I’m just not sure it’s my responsibility to tell you about the birds and the bees.

Dori: Birds and bees?

Herm: That’s what hoomons call the subject of making babies.

Dori: Making babies? Like tweats in a Smittens factory?

Herm: *swallows hard* Not exactly.

Dori: *checks watch* One minute, thirty seconds.

Herm: Dori, stop. I don’t need the stress of pressure.

Dori: Yoo feel stwessed? Why?

Herm: I don’t want to make a mistake and traumatize you.

Dori: Traumatize? *pulls up a chair* Oh, this is gonna be good!

Herm: All I can tell you is what I heard. I take no responsibility for my information upsetting you.

Dori: Should I sign a Liability Waiver?

Herm: This is what I was told by my birth mother. *pulls at tight collar* Babies are made by storks.

Dori: Storks? Yoo mean them big white birds with the pointy beaks and knobbly knees?

Herm: Yes.

Dori: They make babies? In a factory?

Herm: My birth mom didn’t mention any factory, so I don’t know for sure.

Dori: So, how do the pawrents tell the storks they want babies?

Herm: I assume they have to put in their order.

Dori: On line?

Herm: I think so. They check boxes like:

BOY____ GIRL____ BREED:_____ COLOR:_____

Dori: Makes sense.

Herm: They also upload head shots so the storks can make sure the baby looks something like them.


Dori: Isn’t pwogwess amazing? But how does the stork get the baby to the pawrents?

Herm: The pawrents get a text saying their order is ready for pick up.

Dori: Okay. Thank yoo for sharing, Hwermie. Nothing like the fairy tale Mom told me.

Herm: Mom told you where babies come from? What did she say?

Dori: She said yoo first gotta have sex. Then yoo gotta wait nine months before the baby pops out of yoor tail. Yoo don’t get a choice about if it’s a boy or a girl, or if it even looks like yoo.

Herm: Hunh! Why did you ask me about how babies were made when Mom already told you?

Dori: I didn’t. I asked if yoo knew where babies come from. And now I know the answer. Yoo don’t. And neither does Mom.

Herm: We don’t? Where do you think babies come from?

Dori: Well, it makes sense that storks make babies. Opie told me it was Mother Nature who leaves the baby in the garden on nights when the moon is in the Seventh House and Jupiter aligns with Mars… but we all know he’s fulla boo sheet. Anyway, once the storks have the baby finished, they ship using Chewy.com.

Herm: Chewy? Gosh! I didn’t know that.

Dori: There are other places to order babies, like Amazon.com and Netflix, but Chewy’s shipments arrive fast. Usually within two days of ordering, so theirs is the best.

Herm: Plus they have great boxes.

Dori: Which contain the babies until the pawrents are ready to deal with them climbing all over the place and getting into mischief.

Herm: I had no idea!

Dori: I know lots of stuff. Real world stuff. None of that birds and bees fantasy cwap yoo’ve been spoon fed. Just ask me. Ask me anything.

Herm: Okay. You remember how we were watching that movie where that Forrest Gump guy got stranded on a desert island with a basket ball?

Dori: I wemember. Yoo cried when Wilson made a run for it and left the Gump guy in the ocean to be eaten by sharks.

Herm: He wasn’t eaten by sharks. He was rescued.

Dori: I know. Very dissy pointing.

Herm: My question is… If you had to be stranded on a deserted island, would you want to be alone like Gump, or stranded with someone you don’t like?

Dori: Gump wasn’t alone. He was with Wilson.

Herm: Wilson was a basket ball. Not alive.

Dori: *blink blink* I’m confoozed.

Herm: Focus, Dori. You are on a deserted island.

Dori: *closes eyes, visualized deserted island.*

Herm: Do you want to be alone on that island? Or do you want to be stranded with someone you don’t like?

Dori: Is it necessary that I don’t like them?

Herm: Yes.

Dori: Can I hate them?

Herm: *sighs heavily* Yes.

Dori: Good. I’ll pick being stranded on a dessert island with someone I hate.

Herm: Why?

Dori: So I won’t feel guilty when I have to eat them.

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