It Ain't A Cocktail...

Ahhhh..... Friday night! Sacred time for the Baileys, when we get together with friends, eat pizza, play games, or vandalize Target. Sometimes we do nothing, but it doesn't matter, because, hey, it's Friday!

The cork comes off slightly before the magic 5:00 hour on Fridays, because no homework or structured activities means flipping on the family disco ball a little earlier, watching the dogs chase the rotating lights, and groovin' 'til we can't take the kids anymore and put them to bed before we eat them.

Last Friday night, as the economy kept us at home with tuna casserole (but Wall Street can't take my disco ball), I was at the dinner table with the fam, happily on my third glass of red, iPod on shuffle, when I get this question from my six-year-old daughter:

"I've been wondering this for a long time," she starts.

"Wondering what? Wooooo! I LOVE this song! ParTAY!!! "

"How come, when we eat eggs, there aren't any birds in them?"

"Hotel, motel, watcha gonna do today (say WHAT?!?!?!) - Oh, well, that's simple, really. All chickens, except roosters, of course, so I guess I mean hens, have eggs, like Mom does. (then you can take her frieeeeendddd)"

"You have eggs? Where?"

"Uh, right around here (pointing). They're not like chicken eggs, though. They're teeny, teeny, tiny, so small you can't see them. It's where I got you. Hip hop, hippity hip-hop..."

"Did I hatch?"

"Oh, no, Dad gave me some sperm, which then turned my egg into you. It came from his penis, or boy-part, as you call it. Same thing with the rooster. I mean the chicken - hen - you know what I mean."

Blank stare.

"See, if chickens - hens, specifically - hook up with roosters, they get a little rooster juice..."

Blank stare.

(Maniacal self-laughter, more wine, shame)

"Okay, honey, see a hen must get together with a rooster and get some sperm from HIM to make another chicken, which grows in her egg. If she doesn't get any, uh, rooster juice, then you can eat the egg. Make sense so far?"

"Soooooo, what's rooster juice?"

"Sperm. Like Dad has. Or had. Not anymore - we took care of that after your sister. Anyway, it's the boy's contribution to making more chickens. Or babies. Comes from the penis, like I said."

"Roosters have penises?"

"Yep - but they have to make them work with the hens to get a bird inside the egg (and the chicken tastes like wooooood...)"

"So, if I eat an egg, that means a chicken hasn't hooked with a rooster? What is 'hooking'?"

"Hooking up, honey. Big difference. Anyway, it just means that they have chicken relations, which are like people relations, only I'm sure it looks very different. The rooster connects his rooster penis with the chicken vagina, and..."

"Chicken fajita?"

"No, vagina. Like girls have. Anyway, once those two parts get together, an egg is fertilized, like vegetables in the garden. And then you have a baby. Or a bird. Or a tomato."

Blank stare.

"Honey, we'll talk about this more tomorrow (when I haven't had so much wine), okay?"

"Okay. But I want pancakes. I'm not eating any eggs."