Part 3

"Which one was it now?"

Charlotte hadn't even managed to shut their bedroom door before Sam was all set to solve the world's problems. Perhaps one spanking at a time.

"It not the girls," she replied avoiding his piercing blue eyes. "It's us."

Sam crossed his arms across his chest. "What did I do now?"

Before she could think of a gentler way to say it the words were out. "You got me pregnant." And she watched Sam fall against the closet door. "Good thing that door was there," she quipped -- heading under the covers of their bed. Their room was cold. It was early November and they still hadn't turned the heat on.

The word impossible reached her comforter covered ears. "Possible," she murmured back.

"How?"

"According to Dr. Houseman, tubal ligations fail more often than we'd all like to think."

Sam had now made his way under the comforter as well. And from inside their cozy tent their conversation soften. "But we're old, at least older. And I thought you were complaining about hot flashes and missing your period."

"I was. And then I started to feel sick and figured I should go in for a once over."

"And..." queried Sam.

"And one of your little guys with herculean strength convinced one of my shy little girls that it was just dandy to come out and play."

Not one to enjoy the humor, Sam rolled away. "and what now..."

"And we're going to have a baby," stated Charlotte rather matter of factly. Wondering just where he had been for the last umpteen years of their marriage.

"But what do we tell the kids?"

And then it all hit home. Two out of three knew about the bird and the bees. Sarah the teenager, after learning about sex decided that her parents had done it exactly three times, maybe four since they had lost a baby. And that she wouldn't get caught dead doing any of that stuff. And the 11 year old, Jenny, despite all the reports of that how it's done, was still rooting for the stork.

"If we tell them, then their going to know that there almost 50 something parents..."

"We're only 47."

"Close enough to 50 something, are still hot and heavy."

Charlotte smiled, really smiled, for the first time all day. "Now won't that knock their hand knit woolen socks off."

"What are we going to do?"

Still seeing the humor in this Charlotte pressed her husbands hand against her clothed abdomen and answered, "When we tell them, it's going to be gigantic. Kind of like finding out the Pope uses the bathroom."

"Bigger."