My 4 year old asks endless questions. A car ride wouldn’t be complete without a question that stumps me, like, “What’s underneath grass and rocks in the earth?” Hold that thought, let me Google it. Soil? Lava? More soil?
But I have a lot of questions, too.
- What age do kids start having sleepovers?
- What’s the going rate for the tooth fairy?
- Should I be flossing my kid’s teeth?
- Why is Ben Carson running for president?
- When will my kids be old enough that I can replace the IKEA couch that has coffee stains, spit up stains and other unidentifiable stains?
- When will I be able to part with my copy of the Twilight series?
- Where can I buy a large area rug for less than $50?
- If I sign up for a 5K, who will hold me accountable to train for it?
- When will my husband and I be able to go on vacation without the kids?
- Why didn’t I learn how to sew a button or hem pants?
- Why did I waste so much time in my 20s reading celebrity gossip blogs?
- Should I get a tattoo?
- Will my students take me seriously if I get a purple streak in my hair?
- When I tell my kids they’ll see their great-grandparents in heaven, do I really mean it?
- Why can’t I concentrate long enough to read a book for more than 5 minutes?
- Why do I still have acne?
- What if someone tells my son Santa isn’t real?
- How do I know if my son is ready for kindergarten?
- Why are clowns so creepy?
- Why are cell phone plans still so expensive?
So many questions.