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.
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."
"And I haven't told anyone about it. But I want to tell you now."
"And it's about boys."
Me: "It's okay. What was it?"
Fiona: "And it's kinda mean."
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.)
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!
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