As further evidence that I am aging at warp speed, I attended a bridal shower today for one of our former babysitters. Lauren, whom we met when she was a junior in high school, is getting married next month. Her sisters and Mom threw her a shower and graciously invited Cat, Tate and I to attend.

Tate begged off due to another pressing engagement (read as decided to force Daddy to play games all afternoon) but Cat, 7, was thrilled to be attending a bridal shower. Not even a recent bout with a stomach bug and severe local flooding would dissuade her. She was determined to make the scene. She even donned knee high leather boots and a new sparkly bag for the occasion “because they will help me look older and fit in.”

And fit in she did, for a time. Lauren’s friends who had heard all about her adventures in babysitting for us, all made a fuss over Cat and went out of their way to make her feel included. Erin, Lauren’s twin, who also babysat for her, spent a tremendous amount of time with Cat chatting and hanging out. Cat beamed.

Because it was all going so smoothly, I let my guard down and had a glass of wine. Erin stood up to announce that the games were beginning with a take-off of the Newlywed Game. Lauren would be asked 36 questions that her fiance had answered earlier, and her responses would be compared to the videotaped responses he had given. Lauren sailed through questions of Nick’s favorite meal, their first date, and other sweet and innocuous questions. I sipped more wine and enjoyed the game.

Then the question was asked, “Where did you and Nick first have sex?” Before Lauren, who was blushing furiously, could respond, Cat yelled “LAUREN AND MR. NICK HAVE HAD SEX? They DID IT?” While I tried to shush her she turned to me and asked indignantly, “Did YOU KNOW about this?”

I handed her a 7-up and told her to drink quietly. The questions took a more G-rated turn with the number of kids they would have, intended names, etc. One of the questions was about Lauren’s bra size, which Nick correctly answered. Cat stated loudly, “Well, I guess we all know NOW how he would know THAT.” I handed her cup back to her and told her to sip it while I took a large gulp of mine.

Then a question arose, “Lauren, who will Nick say is more likely to initiate foreplay?” As an aside, Nick’s answer was priceless, “Lauren, because I like to just get down to it.” On cue, Cat leaned over and asked “Mommy, what is foreplay?”

My response? “It’s an indication that it’s probably time for us to go now honey.”

The game ended and Cat and I said our good-byes and started the long drive home. We drove quietly for a while listening to the torrential downpour. After a few minutes Cat asked, “Mommy do you remember when and where you and Daddy first did it?”

I frantically tried to think of some wise and age-appropriate to say. But my aging brain failed me and I chickened out. “Cat honey, Mommy needs to concentrate on driving in this storm. Why don’t you just listen to the music on my iPod and then you can ask DADDY anything you want to about this when we get home?”

I decided I can’t keep her from growing up. I can’t keep her from asking these questions. I can’t stop time from marching across my face, my ass and my short-term memory. But I decided that if I am going to age this rapidly, I am taking Darling Husband with me and these questions will certainly help him catch up.