How Do Dragons Cough?

It’s not the 5.30am starts or the sole responsibility for nappy changing, or even the shuttle at bath and bedtime  with milk, toothbrushes and towels that I find difficult.  No.  When A is away, as he is at the moment (on a work trip to the Maldives – I kid you not) the thing that I find hardest to deal with are the questions.  

H is constantly asking questions.  These are not the “Can I have some milk please?” type questions, although I get plenty of those too.  These are ‘stop and think and wonder “What On Earth?”‘ kind of questions.  They’re the type of questions that I promised myself, before I had children, that I would answer properly and considerately and with due care and attention.  And then they started. 

This morning alone we had:

– What are feelings? (This was before 5.30am)

– What is a trapdoor?  (I found this one surprisingly hard to explain, but then I’d just finished my analysis of feelings, so I wasn’t quite in the trapdoor zone.)

– What’s a waterfall noise?  (I never quite worked out what that meant, but he seemed satisfied when I turned the tap on.)

– What are big bits of dust? and its follow-up:

– Do big bits of dust come out of little dust? (We’re keen on dust at the moment.  I don’t know why.)

– Do you like air? (Never thought I had to have an opinion.  I do now.  And yes, I’m quite fond of air as it happens.)  

And then my favourite:

– How do dragons cough?   He answered this one himself after I played my ‘get out of jail free’ card and asked him how he thought that dragons coughed.  Apparently they cough fire.  So now you know.

I think I’m getting quite used to answering questions.  I’m certainly getting used to the looks on my friends’ faces when H comes in with yet another ‘thought for the day’ as they wait to see what I’m going to say.  The latest was “What is nature?”.  Response: Everything that God has made; and the follow-up “Can I shoot it?”.  Response: I’d rather you didn’t. And in any case you’re only 3 and you live (usually) in a country where the possession of firearms is, for the most part, happily illegal.  I didn’t say that last part. It would have led to many, many more questions.

That’s the key, I’ve discovered.  In a total contradiction of the way I thought I would be pre-children, the aim now, when answering questions, is to close down any potential for follow-up questions as quickly as possible without having to resort to the deadly “Just because it is!!!”.

And then there’s the realisation that there are a lot of things that I just don’t know.  

Things I didn’t know this week:

1. Where the brake is on a motorbike.  (In the end H found a motorbike and showed me where he thought the brake was.  I think he was right.)

2. How electricity works.  And that’s EXACTLY how electricity works, although I’m not sure I’ve even got a vague clue.  My Upper 4 physics teacher tried manfully with that one but, ultimately, failed.  Sorry about that, Mr Gibbs. No, really, I am very sorry.  It would be so much easier now if I had understood a word you were saying then.

3. Why is our car slower than other cars on the road when it’s so much bigger than they are.  I think I know the answer to that one, but I’m confident that even 2 follow-up questions down the road  and I’d be floundering. 

4. What vitamins are in cauliflower.  I was trying to get H to eat cauliflower.  He needed an incentive.  I failed to provide one.  He didn’t eat the cauliflower. 

5. Whether or not elephants have toes.  I know they have toe nails, but where are their toes?  Or their feet, for that matter?  They’ve just got leggy stumps with toe nails, as far as I can work it out.  

A’s not back for a few days, but I’m starting to think that, as of tomorrow, we might just have to start a little list of ‘Questions Mummy Can’t Answer (sub-heading “Because Answering Them Is Doing Her Head In”).  It will be a lovely little list for Daddy for when he gets home.  It will be a perfect opportunity for some father-son bonding time, and that’s what it’s all about…isn’t it?