I knew we’d get there. It was only a matter of time. For a boy who has such an inquisitive nature anyway, the questioning was surely soon to start.
N: What’s that mommy?
J: It’s a cup of tea, Noah.
N: What you doing mommy?
J: I’m drinking it.
N: Why?
J: I like to drink when I get thirsty.
N: Do you like it, mommy?
J: Yes Noah, it’s very nice?
N: Why?
J: Why what?
N: Why is it nice?
J: Because I, uh, like the taste of it?
N: What does it taste like, mommy?
J: It tastes like fruit.
N: Mommy why does it taste like fruit?
J: Because that’s what they put in the teabag.
N: Where’s the fruit mommy?
J: In the teabag.
N: But where’s the fruit mommy?
J: It’s in the teabag Noah, it’s chopped into lots of pieces and put inside the teabag?
N: Why?
J: To make it taste like fruit.
N: Mommy, it doesn’t taste like fruit.
At this point he hasn’t actually tasted it. And neither have I because it’s stone cold. Again.
But I don’t mind. Again.