Mom, What Is 69?

This post was originally written and posted on March 8, 2011.

It's a pretty calm evening.

At least in my world.  I'm pretty good at ignoring the screaming girls running around.

 A friend is over which only seems to amplify things.

But I'm in my happy zone. I'm in the kitchen baking cupcakes for a baby shower. I scored on some things at Orson Gygi today, and I'm mulling over in my mind how to tackle the current cake project, while taking note of two more that are coming up next week. After a day of number crunching, my creativity gets to start flowing.

It feels good.

Brynn is sitting on a bar stool on the other side of the counter, watching me.

"Mom, what does 69 mean?"

I pause.  There was no warning to prepare me for this question.  No indication that it was going to come.  In a flash second the question is hanging there in the air of the kitchen, with the smell of baking cupcakes.  I take note of the rule that I promised myself I would always follow:

If they're old enough to ask, they're old enough to know.

 But I also like to stick with the rule to keep the information age appropriate.

 I don't know enough about where she's coming from with this to know how I should proceed so I ask, "what do you mean? Where did you hear it?"  I desperately need more information as to where this question has come from.

"When we read that Cleopatra was born in 69."

A flood of relief.  I tell you, an absolute broken dam of relief that I had decided to ask a little more.

Brynn has just done a book report on Cleopatra and we found out that she was born in 69 B.C.
I think I'd much rather explain the terms of  B.C. and A.D. to my child than... well, let's not talk about the alternative.