Delectable Fish Lips

Yesterday was supposed to be Connor's second and final attempt at his sedated dental appointment. No such luck. At our previous attempt I learned that my kid is a funny, sloppy drunk. At the first appointment, once the meds kicked in, he accused a tiny girl baby in the waiting room of being his brother and kept complimenting "new Hudson" on his beautiful purple shirt, giggling like a mad man. "New Hudson's" mother was not so amused. Alas, that appointment was a bust so yesterday we went to a new dentist to try again.
He had his "special" juice and 30 minutes later the overly affectionate case of the sillies set in. His first victim: the giant fish tank in the middle of the waiting room. He was amazed by the "most beautiful, gorgeous fish" he had ever seen. He kissed the tank repeatedly and open mouthed. But was that enough? Nope. He then begged me to hoist him up and dangle him over this six foot tall tank so he could catch a fish with his bare hands and then kiss it on it's "delectable fish lips." Yes, this is a direct quote, shout out to Nick Jr. for teaching us that new word. When he realized that he wasn't going to get any reciprocal affection from the tank, he turned the silly love on me. Every other minute I heard, "I love you Mommy, let me kiss you." Sweet. For a while. Please keep in mind that this was a shockingly busy dentist's office. I started to feel slightly uncomfortable when Connor demanded loudly that our kisses last "forever." It was like he was literally glued to my lips, the cheek was absolutely unacceptable. Slightly awkward for the casual observer, I'm sure.
After all that the only real result we got from the silly juice was this silly story. When it came down to it, the medicine was incapable of actually sedating him enough for any real work to be done. So onward and upward we press, I can't even imagine how my little under the influence cassanova will react at our next appointment.

Because that's the way God made it.

I was talking with a friend this morning after church and she was telling me how she was in an awkward conversation with her four year old about why girls and boys have different parts. He really sprung this on her and she said she just didn't know what to say. I do.
"Because that's the way God made us."
Now, I also shared with her that my husband has requested that I lay off of using this answer, because apparently I do it a lot. I know that the day is coming when my child will officially be smarter than me and I am prepared to accept that. There is tons of stuff I don't know and Connor is the king of endless questioning. Why is the sky blue? Why do I have two arms? Why is dirt dirty? Frankly, I have no idea, so I tell him, "Because that is the way God made it." Is it a total cop out answer, yes. Am I ashamed of it, no. Right now it works and I would like to keep up the facade that his mother is a genius for as many years as possible.
It is really bothering Matt though. He has visions of Connor sitting down for his medical board exams and in response to some open ended medical question writing, "Because that's the way God made it." Somehow he doesn't think that is going to inspire confidence in a doctor.
The other night, Connor comes in and asks me, "Mom, why does a volcano get hot?" Um, I don't know. So I gave him my standard answer and his father freaked out. Two hours later they have googled, discussed thoroughly, created some sort of powerpoint and are in the midst of a "volcano experiment" involving exploding a can of Diet Dr. Pepper in my bathtub. Now Connor can explain molten lava and gasses to you to an annoying degree. I earned two uninteruppted hours of TV time. I ask you, who is the smartest now?