I’ve heard some of these questions
It has been about a month since James started his first day of school.
I am starting to get used to all the routines, procedures and other things that go along with “school days.”
I have also quit crying to myself as I watch him slowly walking into school building with his little book bag that takes up his entire back.
I get almost as excited as he does on Fridays to dress him up depending on the theme that goes with the football game that night.
I also look forward to seeing his week’s worth of lessons each Friday, complete with wiggly letter-tracings and colorings.
But what I really seem to enjoy the most are the talks he and I share on our way to and from school each day. Some of the things he is starting to ask bring a grin to my face and a break from the daily grind of deadlines, news articles and page layouts.
James is full of questions now, and I try to find the right answers to all of them.
“Why do we have to take naps,” he asked.
“So you will get your energy up for a big day,” I replied.
Looking out the window with a very concerned expression on his face, I could tell he was really thinking about my answer.
“But I have enough energy,” he said. “So, I don’t need naps.”
“Well, if you don’t rest, you start to become moody,” I said.
“What’s moody,” he asked.
“It’s how you act when you start feeling tired and you start acting bad,” I said. “You start to get cranky, and you don’t listen very well. And you overreact with stuff Daddy and I tell you.”
James began taking his finger and tapping it on his chin as if he was really thinking about his response.
“I don’t get moody,” James said. “Maybe you and Daddy should take naps.”
I give him a look over my sunglasses and explain to him that’s not how it works. He grins and tells me it should be the way it works.
We both start smiling at each other, and he moves onto to other questions.
Where do bears live?
Do astronauts live on the moon?
Why do I have to wear a seatbelt?
If Elsie is a girl, why does she look like a boy?
Can I pretend to be a coyote?
Why did the dinosaurs die?
Why did God make holes?
Daddy says he is the boss. What’s a boss?
I really like answering that last one.
Some of his questions are actually pretty funny, and I try to answer each one to the best of my ability.
But explaining things like meteors, tornadoes and the eating habits of a grizzly bear can get pretty tough sometimes.
And James has gotten into the habit of asking the same questions over and over again.
I try to be patient and answer each and every question because I know my own mother went through the same thing with me.
I can remember asking hundreds of questions about space, if toys came to life, why bullies pick on you and if you could drink pop candy with soda pops.
But every now and then, I can tell you where James gets a lot of his questioning skills from these days.
What kind of hairdo is that?
How can I be of assistance?
I wasn’t listening. What did you say?
Why can’t he wear camouflage to church?
What’s up with your head? Are those curlers?
Where’s the remote?
Where did you stash my new hunting magazine?
Why do you move everything?
What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?
What do you mean, we have to entertain?
What’s the point of having placemats if I can’t eat on them?
Do we have to go?
Do we really need to buy all this?
These are questions I am bombarded with regularly by my husband Jason. I am sure James picks up them from time to time.
And usually a heavy sigh and a slight shake of my head answers the questions for him.