When I pick up my kids from school, our first exchange in the parking lot or front foyer (on bitterly cold days) is usually the same.

Me (so excited to see them having missed them all day): Hi Sweetie! How was your day?

Followed by a big hug.

Hanna: Great! I’m tired. Can we go home and have a snack?

Or, “Great! I’m tired. Can we go home so I can go to the bathroom?”

Or, “Great! I’m tired. Do we have piano tonight? Because if we do, my stomach hurts.”

I guess that’s why today’s conversation caught me slightly off guard.

Me: Hi Sweetie! How was your day?

Big hug.

Hanna: Mommy? What’s a condom?

The crowd’s reaction was telling.

A synchro-gasp. So we agree—this had shock and awe written all over it. One woman covered her daughter’s eyes. Was I going to pull one out of my purse and demonstrate how to put it on a banana?

For the record–No.

Thankfully, right after she asked, Hanna was whisked away on an ambush play date having cornered both myself and the unsuspecting host mother with “Can I go to Sally’s house?” right in front of Sally’s mother who graciously agreed to the self-invite.

Normally I get annoyed at this approach but in a moment of desperation, if I was going to avoid the condom talk, I opted instead to nod staring straight ahead in agreement and send her to someone else’s home. Maybe Sally’s Mom has bananas? I’m not sure if I picked up her school things but I’m fairly certain I threw up in my mouth, more than a little bit.

I think after doing some research, some deep breathing exercises and hanging out on my labour ball for a while I’ll tell her the truth.

A condom is a dwelling that is independently owned but with shared facilities and monthly fees.