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Sparkle (0)
One of my boys asks a lot of questions. A LOT of questions. Often he spread them out and asks them of other people -- his siblings, his dad, his friends and teachers. I don't mind answering questions -- truly, I don't, for how else will he learn? But, sometimes, my patience is shattered. Let's take a typical afternoon exchange, as I drive him to his Muay Thai class.
We were passed by a fire truck, lights on and sirens wailing.
"Mom? Do you always have to get over if there is a fire truck behind you?"
I explain the rules of the road: only pull over if the truck needs to get around, if it's safe, and you won't cause an accident.
"But what if it's a two-lane road and there is traffic on the other side?"
I go over that as well.
"But what if it's a one-lane road and there's a car coming towards you?"
Again with the explanations.
"But what if there is a lake on the side and you are driving right next to it and you might fall into the lake?"
Ok. I talk again about not putting yourself in danger, but pulling over as soon as you possibly can.
"But what if you can't? What if you speed up and then there is a cop ahead and he gives you a ticket for speeding? What if you try to pull over and fall into the lake and drown?"
At this point I'm working on not screaming.
I pull some patience from down deep and explain again. I know I'm explaining it correctly. It's not THAT hard of a concept.
"But what if the lake is long and it goes on for miles and you have no room to get over? What then?"
Then you begin to drink.
Tell me, please, that you go through the same stuff every.single.day.
