Setting:  Living-room.  Late afternoon.  Chillaxing on the couch in our usual setup.

 Helena:  (pointing to the tree next to my car, which, a few days earlier, her friend Peanut-Allergy told her they should spit on it, but Helena told her that would be rude, so they didn’t.) See that tree there?  You know what’s buried under that tree?

Smacky:  A turtle?

Helena:  No – try and guess. 

Me:  A body?

Helena:  No – i’ll give you a hint – it came out of my mom when i came out of my mom.

Me:  …um… a puppy?

Helena:  (grinning hugely)  Noooo…

Me:  um… (I look at Smacky for help, who is useless to me at this point)  some marshmallows?

Helena:  No! (She proceeds to cover her mouth with the tips of her fingers and giggle - it reminds me of a demure Asian lady)  I’ll give you another hint – it’s a blob, and it’s gooey (She emphasizes this hint by using her hands to demonstrate the approximate size and shape.)

Me:  Ooh!  Ooh!   (I can’t believe I’m actually going to say this)  Placenta?

Helena:  Yep!  Mine’s there, and Mitchell’s is there.  Not that tree, but that other tree – the one there.   And Wesley’s is under that tree in the side yard. 

Me:  Wow!…   Well!…  That is pretty cool!  (Note to self – do not picnic under ANY tress on the property.) 

Helena:  Yep!  Can I have a snack?