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November 9, 2016

Questions I Don't Want Answers To

I used to be so curious. I was proud of my agog nature that caused me to ask whatever inquisition piqued my interest. The thirst for knowledge was real, information was everywhere and I wanted to have it. But these days? Nope. Shut up, I've asked you nothing. 

Now all I have are questions that I never want answers to. Toddler life has me like, “Dylan, what’s on your shoe?” or, “What did you just put in your mouth Adrian?" And even a, “Did you just say you're 'wiggling your wiener?'" The questions don't stop and quite frankly I resent having to ask them, since the answers require additional questions that tend to veer towards disgust, panic, and/or more work for mommy. And guess what? I'm ALWAYS mommy. 

So, I squirm in silence. I try my very best to resist what comes naturally and bed the who/what/wheres and whys but BAM! I'm baited and I just cant- I MUST KNOW, "What are you holding in your hand?" 
"A sticker."
"Where did you get a sticker?" 
"I found it mommy."
"May I see it?" Just look at me go. 
"You can't touch it, you can only look, okay?" My son says to me as I've said to him so many times before. 

Oh, wow! What a cool sticker! It looks exactly like a bloody used band-aid you'd find on the street after six weeks of foot traffic. Insert gagging here. 

But I get it, I did the right thing for the kid by asking. It was practically my duty to ensure he wasn't holding something dangerous or disgusting like a stranger's used bandage. Only now that I've done my parental due diligence, I'm left with the dismal reality that my son is merely a young lass who doesn't know shit about shit and that there are so many more interesting discoveries still to come. 

And sure, it's not all icky. Some very good laughs come from asking a toddler 15 consecutive questions in order to figure out what the fuck is going on in your household. "Honey, why are you sleeping on the dirty floor?"
"I'm just laying down like a piece of poop mommy!" Oh, lol, carry on.

Sometimes though, I'd rather skip the Q&A and look the other way. Maybe, just maybe, I don't need to know that my son is chewing on (and enjoying) a stale old cracker he found from god knows where. How is learning such info truly going to serve me, anyway? Cursed are the curious and dammed are those daring enough to ask questions they don't want the answers to. Or in other words, toddler life is the cat curiosity would rather play with than kill.