On a recent drive to my parents’ house, I was first annoyed and then amused by the INSANE amount of questions my daughter asked. If you are a parent of a preschooler, you can sympathize. Here are the ones I can remember, the way she asked them, in the order she asked them (as best I recall):
Are they fixing the road?
How do you fix roads?
Why do they have to fix the road?
Why do trucks carry cars? [after seeing a tow truck]
What fixing place are they going to?
Are they going to our fixing place?
When can Ella [her best friend] spend the night?
Is that the car wash we went in Gigi’s car?
Was Ella with us when we went there?
How old were we?
Were our babies borned yet? [referring to their younger siblings]
Are we close to the Waffle House?
Where did Maw Maw use to live?
Is that her road?
What just happened? [in response to a honking horn]
Why did that car not go when he was supposed to?
Will a policeman get him?
Why won’t a policeman get him?
Do dogs bleed?
Are we almost there?
Ah, the inquisitiveness of children. I smile and try to remind myself that this is how she learns about the world, that asking questions is a good thing, something to be encouraged.
And I relish the days when she wants to play the quiet game : )
ha ha! that is like being in the car with greg!
I was going to say that it sounds like Jude!