I wish I had the patience to keep a tally for one day of the questions my son asks me. Actually, I'm not sure I can count that high. I think I might need a calculator just to count up the first few hours!
Don't get me wrong. I love that Biscuit loves to learn. He soaks in new information like his brain is a sponge. I wish we all could learn like that, even as adults.
But sometimes, the questions get to be too much. And I have to count in my head to keep from saying, "Don't. Ask. Me. Another. Single. Question!!!!!"
This evening, we were out and about, and we saw an airplane flying toward the airport.
"Mom, where is that plane going?" Biscuit asked.
"It looks like it's heading toward the airport," I said.
"How does the airport work, Mom?" Biscuit asked.
"Well, people drive their cars to the airport and park. Then they get on planes and fly to wherever they want to go," I explained. "When they're done with their trip, they fly from a different airport back to our airport, get in their cars and drive back home."
"Who's on that airplane, Mom?" Biscuit asked.
"I don't know, baby," I said. "I guess it's people going on vacation or maybe traveling for their job."
"Do people drive their cars to the airport like we drove our car and that van?" Biscuit asked.
"What van?" I asked.
"That van that Dad drove, and we followed him in our car. Remember?" Biscuit asked.
The event Biscuit is talking about happened last June. A couple of our friends took a trip to New Orleans, and since we live so close to the airport, we picked up their van and brought it back to our house for the week they were gone. It kept them from having to pay for parking all week.
And Biscuit remembers it well enough to know that the van belonged to a friend of mine and that the van sat at our house for a while, then when we took it back to the airport, Jeff drove the van, and I drove Biscuit and me in our car. And he remembered it well enough to ask me questions about it!
The questions that make me the craziest are the ones that don't really have an answer. But even though I know there's not a good answer, I don't want Biscuit to think I'm avoiding his question or ignoring him. So I feel the need to answer him.
Plus, if I didn't come up with some answer, he'll just keep asking the question, changing the phrasing of the words every few times.
"Mom, what kind of truck is that?" Biscuit asked a few days ago.
"It's a landscaping truck," I said. "The guys driving the truck do work in people's yards."
"Do they have equipment on their truck, Mom?" Biscuit asked.
"Yes," I answered. "They have lawnmowers, weed eaters, shovels and other tools."
"Why do they have that stuff and other tools, Mom?" Biscuit asked.
"Because that's what they need to do their job," I said.
"Why do they need that stuff to do their job, Mom?" Biscuit said.
And this is the point that I start praying for a firetruck or police car to come screaming down the street.
"Those are the tools they need to do their work," I said.
"Why do they do that work, Mom?" Biscuit asked.
"It's their job to do that work," I said.
"But why do they do that work?" Biscuit asked.
"I don't know, baby," I said, with more than a bit of frustration in my voice, hoping that the last red light before day care is a really short one. "I guess that's just the kind of job they like to do. Or maybe they're just really good at that job."
"Why are they good at that job, Mom?" Biscuit asked.
"Hey, look!" I said. "There's a dump truck. I wonder what he's carrying?"
I hate to admit that I completely changed the subject on him, but I was at the end of my knowledge about landscapers.
Plus, by that point, there was time for about three more questions before we pulled into the day care parking lot. And I figured I knew enough about dump trucks for three more questions.
Like I said, I'm really glad Biscuit loves to learn, but one day he's going to ask me a question, and I'm just going to start screaming and run away!
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