The news of my transgression was traveling fast and it was now safe to stop sucking in my gut. For the most part, everyone was coming around to the thought of me blindly jumping into motherhood. My stepdad was almost speaking to me again, my stepbrother had toned down the fat jokes, and my sister had selflessly offered to trade beds with me so that I’d stop kicking her in the face 12 times a night when I climbed down from the top bunk to pee.
Things were really starting to look up!
I had to all but draw a diagram for my eight year old niece who was shockingly so sheltered she could not wrap her mind around the basic biology of how someone who was unmarried could even get pregnant. To her it was not physically possible. I bet my mom wasn’t feeling sorry for her.
At our traditional family Christmas dinner after she had no doubt been at church all day hearing the sweetly told stories of the baby Jesus, she looked at me, perplexed. Suddenly her little eyes widened and a light went off for her. It was as if she finally understood what she had been trying to piece together in her head for weeks.
“Auntie, you are like the Virgin Mary.”
All conversation came to a screeching halt.
After slightly choking on my sparkling cider I replied, “Oh?”
“Yes,” she continued, “because she wasn’t married. She was a virgin and she still had a baby. And you’re not married and you’re having a baby. So you must be like the Virgin Mary.”
She had solved one of life’s great mysteries. I smiled, guiltily satisfied, and said, “Sweetie, do me a favor. Run in there and tell Grandma.”
Immaculate Conception.
Why hadn’t I thought of that?
I wanted to think of something really witty and entertaining in response to this posting, but I cannot stop peeing my pants in hysterics. Oh those girlies. Those were the good old days. I am a huge fan of their naivety. Too bad it never lasts. I think she finally did in fact realize that you are NO VIRGIN MARY my sister.
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