When I was growing up, I remember asking my parents a ton of questions. Magically, they always had an answer. So, naturally, I thought they were the smartest people on earth and took everything they said as gospel.
It wasn’t until I went off to college that I (slowly) began to realize, maybe they just made educated guesses.
Now it’s my turn.
Miss Z asks “why” about everything. Which is cool-I love that she’s curious and thirsty for information, blah, blah, blah… But the word “why” can eventually get to you. I understand it’s a very normal three year old thing-and I was expecting it. It’s.just.so.much.
She hears a dog bark, “what was that?”
“It was a dog barking.”
“Because it saw another dog and wanted to say hi.”
“But why, mama?”
“That’s what dogs do, they bark at each other to say hi.”
“But….whhhhyyyyy…?” (This last one sounds how it reads, very whiny.)
Argh!!!! “I don’t know.”
This is a general idea of our daily conversations. When we get to the “I don’t know” part of it, (which NEVER flies, BTW,) my only option is to distract her with something else. And we repeat the above conversation.
The only time I can legitimately satisfy her “why,” is when I actually know something about what she’s asking about. I then over explain it and she loses interest.
It’s when I don’t know a whole lot that I’m screwed. And my short answers don’t suffice, thus the “why game” begins again.
I try not to make crap up too often, because she’s also at the “repeat everything mama or daddy says phase.” Or, as I like to call it, the “throw mama or daddy under the bus phase.”
I wonder how old she’ll be when she decides I’m full of it and stops asking me “why” about everything. Hopefully, I have awhile yet to be the smartest person in the world.