I was shaving this morning right after hop(p)ing out of the shower, standing at the sink in the buff, hacking away at my face. Ava was standing quietly nearby, waiting to help Leah with the bandages we’ve been putting on the wounds on my back since my last mole removal. Then, matter-of-factly, she says, “You’re a stallion. A male horse.” I looked over at her with a bit of a shock and stared at her for a second before she continued. “I’m a mare. A female horse. Mom’s a mare, too.”
Whew. Crisis averted. Just more pretend and not a situation requiring Ava’s immediate removal to an all-girls school somewhere.