The baby, due in (theoretically) less than three months, kicks visibly these days. We all find this hilarious, for now. Some of us will continue to find it amusing indefinitely. Others of us will soon move into the realm of kicked-in-the-ribs, which is decidedly less, you know, hilarious.

Anyway. We were watching the leaping baby belly over the weekend, Sadie and I, and I explained how right now, she’s the smallest person in our family, but when the baby is born, the baby will be even smaller, and Sadie will be the big sister.

SADIE: I will be the big sister.
ME: Yes.
SADIE: And the baby will be the little sister.
ME: Or brother.
SADIE: And I will be the big sister!
ME: Right!
SADIE: And Daddy can be the chicken.
ME: The… chicken?
SADIE: Not the chicken. The ROOSTER.
ME: Uh…
SADIE: And you can be the cow. Or the moonchi moonchi.
ME: I don’t know… what that… uh, is…?
SADIE: Like a frog.
ME: Oh…
SADIE: And who will be the giraffe? And we need a hippo. And a cat. And a panda and a horse and a elephant… and I will be the Big Sister!
ME: …

Sometimes, with two-year-olds, I think that explaining things ahead of time might not be the way to go.