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Questioning My Sanity

I have a lot of answers.

My youngest child asks a lot of questions.  Occasionally, she will ask for details about me and then I can pretend that it is an interview and I am famous.  

Although "Why does your tummy look like that?" is not often asked of Angelina Jolie.

More often, she asks a series of questions which seem simple but are actually quite difficult.   It's like being a vastly under-prepared contestant on the world's longest game show.

"Is Winnie the Pooh poor?  Why doesn't he wear pants?"

"Are crocodiles and alligators twins?"

"Is a hamburger made of a ham?"

"Can I have that for my birthday?"

"Are Twizzlers made of Gummi Bears?"

"Does Dora the Explorer's mommy know where she is when she's outside?"

Somewhere in there is the opportunity to discuss that poverty is not based on attire and that I do feel that the young girl with the monkey friend is grossly undersupervised, but my little one only wants answers.  

Recently, she has begun to question others in public.  It's awesome.

I am sure the charming young man at really liked being asked, "What's that bump on your face?  Is it a beetle?"  

In case you are unaware of this fact, there are categories of behavior in a child which are seen as reflections of a parent's inadequate proficiency.  The asking of rude questions is one of these.

As a result, I had to discuss with little Poe that inquiries about another's unusual appearance are sometimes seen as unkind and there would be no chicken nuggets for a while.  

So now I'm on a waffle-fries-free diet because my tyke had a query about a mole.  It's a bit of a Catch-22 because nothing quells embarrassment like nicely fried and salted potatoes.

After all, I'm not the one asking the questions, am I?

Maria Koklanaris Bonaquist July 15, 2011 at 09:23 PM
When I was six years old, I stared up into a lady's face, and then loudly asked my mother why the lady had plucked out all of her brows and drawn them in with a crayon instead. A bad day for us all.
Dusty Smith July 15, 2011 at 10:02 PM
My daughter's nearing that age. Should be interesting. Great column!
Karen Goff July 15, 2011 at 10:14 PM
When I was Poe's age, I asked my mom, why Mr. Meckler, the very large owner of the Mr. Junior clothing store, was so fat. In hearing range of Mr. Meckler. I don't think we got a great deal on Levis from then on. PS- The Pooh question is an obvious sign of a highly gifted and intelligent child. I have often pondered the pants question myself. Also, is he homeless (Pooh appears to live in the 100 acre wood), is he a thief (steals honey), and does he have a bing eating disorder?
Karen Goff July 15, 2011 at 10:36 PM
Binge
Carolyn Lawson Low July 15, 2011 at 11:25 PM
At least she's innocent in her questions... they aren't designed to mortify you in public. Not that *any* of my children do that to me....

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