Have you ever repeated a word so many times that it starts to sound strange and no longer feels like a real word? Well, that's how I feel about the word "why." Why, you ask? Because my son says it ten thousand times a day. Why? Because he's two and a half. This is what our conversations look like:
Cole: Why does that truck have a door, Mommy?
Me: So that the driver can get in and out of the truck.
Cole: Why?
Me: Because he can't live in the truck. He needs to get out sometimes.
Cole: Why?
Me: Because he might have to pee. Or eat. Or stretch his legs.
Cole: Why?
Me: It can get tiring sitting in one spot. It's a good idea to stretch.
Cole: Why?
Me: So your legs don't cramp up.
Cole: Why?
Me: Cuz leg cramps suck.
Cole: Why?
Me: Cuz they hurt.
Cole: Why?
Me: Something about lactic acid build up.
Cole: Why?
Me: Because the human body is complex and interesting, and I only took grade 11 biology. I don't know all the details.
Cole: Why?
Me: Because I decided to take drama in grade 12 instead.
Cole: Why?
Me: Because math and science were never really my thing. But that doesn't mean it won't be your thing. You can do whatever you'd like. Except if it's dangerous.
Cole: Why?
Me: Because I'm your Mommy, and I made you, and I want to keep you safe.
Cole: Why?
Me: Because I love you.
Cole: Why?
Me: I love you because you're kind, and adorable, and funny.
Cole: Why?
Me: Because you're my kid. You sort of have to be funny. It's a pre-requisite. Can you say pre-requisite?
Cole: Pre-requisite.
Me: Very good. Hey, look! An ice-cream truck!
. . .
And that is how we end "why" conversations.
I need a nap.
To read more about my adventures in toddlerhood, check out "Do Your Toddlers Freak Out Over Weird Stuff Too?" and "My Toddler's Truck Addiction." And if you haven't already, please feel free to join my community Facebook page, "Jen Warman: Rants In My Pants."
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