I Am Not Ready For This

It was past Fiona's bedtime, after the story was read and the tucking was tucked, but she was still restless. 

I went in to tuck her into bed just a tad deeper and she said she had to tell me something important.


OK.


Our neighbor girl, who is 10 years old, is a very big part of Fiona's life and sits with her on the school bus every day. 


Fiona: "Neighbor girl (not her real name) told me something very bad."

Pause.

"And I haven't told anyone about it. But I want to tell you now."

Pause.

"And it's about boys."

Pause. 

Me: "It's okay. What was it?"

Fiona: "And it's kinda mean."

(WTF?)

Fiona: "And it's yucky."

Me: Thinking, OMG, what is it? Kissing? It she talking to my baby about inappropriate things? 

Me, in real life: "It's okay, you can tell me and I won't be mad." (I'm secretly hyperventilating.)

Pause.

Fiona, with a guilty, confessional voice: "Girls go to college to gain more knowledge. Boys go to Jupiter to get even stupider."

Me: Sigh of overwhelming relief. 

I stammered something about both girls and boys going to college to learn new things but deep down, I was THIS CLOSE to traumatized!