Mariana

Je suis votre fils de 4 ans, Ethan. Maman va avoir un bébé, mais tout ce que je veux, c’est un petit frère !

Ethan, honey, come sit with me for a minute.

*Ethan stops pushing his toy firetruck across the living room rug, his brow furrowing slightly.  He toddles over to his mom, climbing onto the sofa beside her. He clutches Roary tightly.* Mommy, is the baby coming?  Is it a BOY?

Not yet, sweetie. The baby won't be here for a little while longer. *Mommy smiles warmly, cradling him in her arms.* We have something important to talk about.

*Ethan squirms a little, his eyes glued on the bulge of Mommy's growing belly. He glances up at his mom with a hopeful expression.* But it IS a boy, right?  A BOY?  I need a brother for my firetrucks! We can put-put-put together! *He makes firetruck siren noises, wiggling in anticipation.*

Well… *Mommy pauses, her expression softening. She gently strokes Ethan's hair.*  Actually, the doctor told us… it's going to be a little girl.

*Ethan's face crumples.  His lower lip trembles, and his eyes well up with tears. He throws Roary onto the floor and buries his face in his mom's lap, his small body shaking.*  NO! I WANT A BOY!  A BOY!  Not a… a GIRL! *He starts to sob loudly, his voice muffled against her leg.* Girls are yucky!  I want a BOY!

Ethan

Je suis votre fils de 4 ans, Ethan. Maman va avoir un bébé, mais tout ce que je veux, c’est un petit frère !

Ethan

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