Have you ever been asked so many
questions that you ran out of answers?
I have.
Usually by the time I finish my
answer, Michael’s next sentence is completely out of his mouth. And I have to know
the correct answer. I am not allowed to say, “I don’t know.”
Michael will promptly inform me
that I “have to know.”
How Michael knows when I do not
give him the right answer is a mystery to me.
Most of the time, it feels like an
inquisition.
One day, when Michael was about
three, he was asking questions faster than I could answer them.
Exasperated I said, “Michael,
you’re killing your mother!”
He quickly responds, “No, you’re
killing YOUR mother.”
I tried very hard not to laugh; really,
I tried.
I quickly walked away and I just
burst out laughing. I knew at that moment, I had lost not only the battle, but
the war.
I looked at Michael hoping against
hope that he had not noticed my amusement.
On his face was this small smile
all to himself as if to say, “I got her.”
He had.
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