DEAR ABBY: You printed a letter from "Happy Granny in Waldo, Fla." about when to talk to children about sex. You said it reminded you of a story: Seven-year-old Tommy asked his mother where he came from. She gave him "the lecture," to which he responded, "Oh. My friend Jimmy said he came from St. Louis."
My son's father died when he was 2, so I was left to deal with the mountain of never-ending questions. Beating around the bush was unacceptable to my son. When he was 6, he asked how the baby had gotten into the stomach of a woman at church. I explained about planting seeds and flowers growing. He then proceeded to ask how the seed got planted, who planted it, and what part the daddy played in this. On and on -- until finally, after admonishing my son not to share this information with his younger friends, I gave him "the facts of life" lecture in as much detail as he seemed to want.
As long as I live, I will never forget his shocked, mortified expression as he lifted his little face to heaven and prayed, "Oh, God, isn't there any OTHER way?" -- HAPPY MOM IN NORTH CAROLINA
DEAR HAPPY MOM: From the mouths of babes. I assume he got over his shock as he grew older.