My dear daughter asks a lot of questions. Of course, I usually have no problem with this. As far as I’m concerned, the ability and propensity to show curiosity indicates a high degree of intelligence. On some days, however, the questions seem to shoot out of my kid’s mouth like a machine gun.
She also challenges us a great deal. On some days, we seem to bring to life that famous Monty Python sketch where the man goes in for an argument and in the end seems to get more than he bargained for.
“But I came here for an argument!”
“No you didn’t!”
Yesterday, Cecelia’s line of questioning only confirmed my belief that she just might make a great attorney. We could use one in this family, so if she does pursue this line of work, she has my blessing.
During our drive home and after picking her up from school, the three of us got into a discussion about our mothers, and Louise happened to mention that her mother once worked in a bakery. She remembered how great it was when her mother brought home items that they couldn’t sell because they were left in the oven a little too long. For lack of a better term, Louise called them burnt.
Cecelia asked, “Was your mom a good baker?”
“Yes, she was,” Louise replied, with a bit of pride.
“How can she be a good baker if she burned everything?”
And then five minutes later:
“What’s so funny? Stop laughing at me!”