“If God dies, do we all die?”
“Why are bogies green?”
“Do you think the Darleks mind being the baddies all the time?”
“Is Hulk stronger than Superman?”
Can you imagine being asked these sort of questions, on what feels like, an hourly basis?
My five-year-old son has to be the most inquisitive child ever.
He never ever gives up.
His carers commented on it when he was at nursery, his new teacher says she finds his intense inquisitive nature “a challenge” and a good friend who recently looked after him for a day was left incredulous after a trip to the cinema.
A 20-minute car journey is hell. Nobody else gets a word in edgeways.
“Where is that tanker driver going?”
“Maybe to make a delivery, or maybe he’s going home.”
“But where will he park the tanker?”
“Well he won’t take the tanker home.”
“Where will he take it?”
I’m struggling here, where do they take tankers?
Dan answers for me: “Maybe he’ll take it to Bob the Builder’s yard and park it there.”
“Yes, yes maybe he will.”
“So does Bob the Builder live around here?”
I’m on to a loser here.
I know it’s a really good thing that he’s so inquiring and we are so very proud of him, but sometimes, just sometimes, I want to shout out: “stop asking questions for one minute!”
Of course I don’t, I just rummage around in the dusty recesses of my brain for a decent answer that will satisfy him as to why Doctor Who’s nemesis are so unrelentingly evil or why Superman’s ability to fly is better than Hulk being able to leap from mountain tops.
Dan: “When will James (his older cousin) be a ninja?”
Me: “A ninja? What makes you think he’s going to be a ninja?”
Dan: “Everyone is when they get to a certain age.”
It turns out he meant teenager . . .
My advice to any parent is to write all of these gems down. Otherwise they are easily forgotten in the fog of parenting – and what are you going to have to embarrass them with in years to come?