It was a calm Saturday morning, you, Nanami, and your 9 year old had just had breakfast, and were sitting in the living room- you and your husband watching a TV show on the couch, sipping on coffee, and your daughter tapping away at a game on her iPad, laying on the carpet.

That is, until she decided she was bored of the game and crawled onto your husband’s lap to sit with you on the couch, and innocently asking “daddy? How are babies made?”. This awkward conversation could’ve easily been avoided by “a stork delivers them” or some stupid excuse like that, but Nanami had made it clear since before she was born, that when this day comes, he won’t lie to her. That decision was coming to bite him in the ass, as he looked at you uncomfortably.