Sometimes it's easier to draw what you're thinking instead of talking about it.

When Tim came in, Michelle was sitting on the edge of the couch, nervously tapping her leg. Whatever it was, Tim knew it wasn't going to be good.

"Uh oh. What is it?" he said.

"It's your son, Tim," Michelle said, stressing the "your" part. "I think it's time."

Tim's face grew hot. He had an idea what she meant, but he wanted to put it off as long as possible. "Time … time for what?"

"You know what, Tim. It's time for the talk."

"Oh God! Can't you just do it?" he pleaded.

"No way!" she insisted. "This one's all you. I had Olivia. You get Jake."

"Are you even sure it's time? What makes you think that?"

Michelle pointed at Ella's Illuminated Art Easel.

"What is that doing out here?" he asked.

"Go take a look," she said.

Tim sighed and walked over to the 5-in-1 double-sided easel. He looked at the LED light up drawing board and shrugged. "I don't get it. It just looks like a drawing of all of us."

"Pull down the roll of paper," said Michelle.

Tim did. And he started to laugh. "Oh big deal! So he drew boobs on that one."

"Look at the chalkboard," Michelle said with a raised eyebrow.

Tim actually looked startled. "Uh oh," he said when he saw Ella's stick figure drawings, each of which Jake had edited to make anatomically correct.

"I don't know what's going to be more difficult," said Tim. "Having to explain why this is inappropriate, or that he's way too optimistic about the future."

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