My thirteen year old son is the master of surprising conversations.
“Did you know that Neil DeGrasse Tyson still gets hate mail for saying Pluto isn’t a planet?”
Out of no where.
“He gets letters from second graders who are really pissed.”
Then he started listing Jupiter’s moons. Callisto, Europa, Themisto…
“Is that what makes a planet? Size and its own moons?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Venus might not have a moon. But Venus is like Hell.”
A moment of quiet. Then…
“So what was it like when you menstruated for the first time?”
Interesting segue. “I had no idea what to do.”
“But how did you feel? Did it make you sad you were leaving your childhood?”
“I didn’t realize I was.”
“Good thing it only happens once a month,” said Mister-Everything-I-Need-to-Know-I-Learned-in-Sixth-Grade-Science.
“Yes, but it lasts an entire week.”
“Are you serious?! That’s horrible!” Pause. “You must be glad you’ve had menopause then.”
“I haven’t, but you will know when I do. I’ll keep turning on the air conditioning.”
“Good. It’s ridiculous how you’re always cold.”