Here is one thing that a four year old is good at, asking 437 questions a day. Fortunately my son doesn’t ask that many questions or he is smart enough to realize “Mom doesn’t know all the answers so don’t ask her too much.” Sometimes they will ask silly ones and mostly I have no idea how to answer them because I don’t know either. I have only known two four year olds who had this badly and wouldn’t accept any answer so they would ask the same ones over and over, fortunately mine doesn’t do this.
Today we were going for a walk, my son, my daughter, and me, we were walking through a neighborhood behind our house and we go by this two story house with steps that lead up to the front door. My son asks “Why are there stairs there?” and I knew how to answer this silly question this time. I told him if they didn’t have stairs there, then people would have to use a ladder to read the door knob to get it open and they would have to climb inside. it would be annoying to have to put up a ladder every time and to climb up it and putting the ladder away so stairs make it a lot easier to get to the door so you wouldn’t have to use a ladder. I felt proud of myself for being able to answer this question without saying “I don’t know.”
I can remember this conversation from when I was eight. Mom took me to pottery class every Wednesday after school. We would drive through the original part of town that had very old houses and where the fort was. They had flower beds and grass between the roads and they also had this white thing I am not sure what they are called. But it had a roof too with white pillars and I would always ask my mother every time we drove by it “What is that for?” and I didn’t accept any answer my mom gave me. It was like a ritual I had, ask her that question every time we drive by it and then one day she told me “I keep telling you what it is and you won’t accept the answer. Should I make up an answer and tell you that is where they tie people up there instead of taking them to jail because they have no room in them so they take them there and tie them up there so they won;t go anywhere.” I thought this was funny and I pictured officers taking people there and tying them to the poles. So then on every time we drove by there I would point to it and say “there’s the jail.” This was a clever answer my mom gave me to get me to quit asking her that question. Now she had to hear me say it was the jail every time we went by it. I guess I was satisfied with the answer even though I knew it wasn’t true. But I must have annoyed my mother with my bunch of asking questions but she knew how to shut it up in me but it was never a cure because they would return in other situations.