Questions of the Week

Why?

Why does that man have grey hair?

Why is Papi so big?

Is Papi Daddy’s son?

Why can’t I stay at Papi and Grandma’s house?

Why do we have to go to Grandma and Papi’s house?

Why do I have to eat my dinner?

Why can’t I have dessert?

Why can’t I watch you pee?

Why does Tornado S-y say “bink” when he wants his binky?

Why did Grandma-Great go to the zoo with us?

Why can’t we go to the water park?

Why do bees make honey?

Why are the fossa scared of a lion?

Why are some animals bigger than others?

Why do I have to learn to write my name?

Why do I have to take a nap?

Why did that shark eat that seal?

Why do mosquitoes bite?

Why do we have to go to Target?

Why can’t we go to McDonald’s?

Why do we have to go?

May I have more juice?

May I have a cookie?

May I watch DVD time?

Why did you do that?

Why does Papi have no hair?

Why does Grandma-Great leave alone?

What’s in heaven?

Why can’t I have a toy?

Why do we have thunder?

Why can’t I go play in the rain?

Why do I have to go to bed?

Why?

Why?

Why?

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The Why Phase

I was so excited about the Why Phase.  Honestly, how much fun would that be?  I’m a fountain of useless knowledge.  I love learning useless knowledge.  I love learning period.  In high school drama, the award I was given was The Most Likely To Know Everything (Or She’ll Find it Out).  In college, I had a roommate that loved to torture me with random years, asking me what happened in that year.  I would go ballistic racking my brain, pulling out facts, until I turned on the computer and listed rulers, wars, and all kinds of facts.

Every parenting book talked about how important the Why Phase was, how it was a sign of intelligence and inquisitiveness.  I worried as Tornado E out grew the months it was suppose to be in.  I wondered if my son actually cared to learn about the world around him.  I wondered if I was raising a day laborer, fast food restaurant cashier or a politician.  I waited and prepared.  I was well prepared for questions like:

Why’s the sky blue?

Why’s the grass green?

Why’s that an “E”?

Why is Papi bald?

Why do we go to church?

Why does Daddy make Daddy noise when he sleeps?

When the Why Phase started, did I get any of those questions?  No.  I got questions like these:

Why do I have to go to bed?

Why am I tired?

Why are you tired?

Why am I whiney?

Why is my bed so high?

Why did you do that?

Why can’t I have candy in my bed?

Why am I hungry for candy right now?

Why can’t I have juice?

Why will it leak?

Why do I have to have water?

Why is Tornado S trying to sleep?

Why can’t I sleep in Tornado S’s bed?

Why will he wake up?

Why can’t I sleep with you?

Why do I have to sleep in my own bed?

Why do I have to go to bed?

Why can’t I stay up?

Why am I tired?

Why do I have to put my underwear on?

Yeah, it’s not cute and inquisitive.  It’s not a sign that my kid is smart, trying to figure out the logic of the world.  It’s not a sign of intelligence.  It’s a sign of hidden rebellion.  It’s a sign of anarchy.  It’s a sign that my kid wants the rules to bend to his understanding.  He’s trying to be subversive.  He’s trying to break down the penis rules through his interpretation of logic.

Why do I have to wipe my bottom?

Why will I get diaper rash?

Why will it hurt?

Why do I have to wear underwear?

Why can’t I go naked?

Why do I have to wear clothes in the car?

Why do I have to wear clothes at Grandma’s and Papi’s house?

Why can’t I play with my penis here?

Why can’t I play with my penis in your room?

Does Daddy play with his penis in your room?

Why are you quiet?

Why didn’t you say anything?

Mommy!  Did you hear me?

Why do I have to put my underwear on?

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