My father asks questions all the time.
“What does holy mackerel mean?” he frequently asks.
One of his friends explained the origin of the phrase — eating fish during Lent, etc, etc — but the next day he asked the same question. And the next.
“What are heebie-jeebies?” he asks, “and who ever thought of a word like that?”
“If something is ‘pretty good’, does that means it’s both pretty and good? And what about ‘pretty cute’?”
“What do dogs think about?”
To my children who go barefoot in the house — “Why don’t you wear shoes?” “Why don’t you wear socks?” “Aren’t your feet cold?”
To my tattooed son — “Why did you get those tattoos?” “Were you drunk when you got those?”
When we moved from Cheyenne, WY back to NY, our oldest son was just shy of 3. He asked questions ALL THE TIME. We planned to drive through the night to Kansas, and thought Philip would sleep the whole way. However, he talked for hours during that late night care ride.
I remember telling my sister about it when we got to Kansas because I was so tired.
“What did he talk about?” she asked.
“Mostly, he asked questions,” I said.
“Can I touch the moon?” “Can I hold it?” “Can I play with it?” “Where is that car going?” “What’s in that truck?” “Does the moon like me?” “What are you eating?” Where are we going?” “Why are you crying?”
The emotional and physical exhaustion of the preceding days had left me numb, and yet here was this little person I loved asking me questions.
Do you see the parallel?
It’s like deja vu all over again.
7 thoughts on “Q is for Questions”
I called my son the Little Inquisitor at that age. Love the curiosity, but it can get exhausting.
Oh darn! I thought I’d covered that heebie-jeebie question pretty well… BTW I remember that stop in Wichita; Philip threw up on me.
The mind asks questions, both early and late in life.
I never thought of the meaning of holy mackerel.
Curiosity is nice. Of course, there comes a point when you can feel overwhelmed with the questions. Perhaps you need to get your father a tablet with a voice activated program where he can get all the answers he wants.
I had the ability to think about other things while answering those endless questions so that they never irritated me. I don’t know if I still have it. Things irritate me more often now than they did when I was young.
I bet you asked lots of questions when you were little… 🙂
Haha — yes! And I still do! Last summer when I travelled to Bosnia, my group ribbed me a little for asking so many questions 🙂
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