More like 200 questions.
My son Daniel turns 4 at the end of this month and he is smack dab in the “everything is a question” phase. EVERYTHING is WHY? and HOW? It’s cute and funny and exhausting and sometimes frustrating (when I don’t know the answer, that is. Let’s be honest.)
His favorite questions surround the day’s meals. How do you make oatmeal? How do you grow blueberries? How do you make cereal? How do you make toast? How do you make the bread? Why is the edge of the bread browner than the middle of the bread? How do you make milk? Why is it white? How do you make strawberry jam? Why is it bumpy? How do you make green beans? Why are they green? Why is ice cream cold?
And it continues on and on and on. How do you make french fries? Why is ketchup in a bottle? How do you make turkey meatloaf? How do you make chicken?
(I always cringe a little talking about the animals we eat. Thank goodness he has not associated eating chicken with killing a chicken. At least not yet. )
It is very interesting because all these daily questions force me to be on my “A” game. He’s smart enough to follow along and when we talk about how you have to plant seeds to grow different fruits and veggies, he called me and my husband on it. He said how do BANANAS grow because they don’t HAVE seeds? How does THAT work, Mama and Daddy?
Turns out you plant the banana leaves. Thank you, Google.
He asks the general curious everyday questions that you would expect – why is the sky blue? But then he asks how the clouds make rain and why does it thunder and lightning and I try to answer everything as simply as I can. Short and sweet. Because sometimes it can turn into a 30 minute back and forth session of more questions and I fear I’m confusing him.
Or he’s confusing me.
And he notices every little thing. He asks me how the refrigerator door connects to the refrigerator. He asks my husband why we have a new license plate on the car. He asks why I moved a book or changed a purse or drove a different way to the library.
He asks where all his body parts come from and how did he get his hair, his blue eyes, his white teeth.
He also uses his “whys” to question my authority. Why do I have to clean my room? Why do I have to brush my teeth now? Why do I have to put pants on? Why do we have to go to swimming lessons today? Why do I have to wear a Polo shirt to church? Why? Why? Why?
BECAUSE I SAID SO, Daniel.
(Okay. I get it now, Mom and Dad.)
PS: Guess what hubbie just sent me a link for? This brand new BIG Book of Why: 1,001 Facts Kids Want To Know. I’m ordering it for (me and) Bean. Pronto.
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