The Number One Question Ever.....

It occurs to me that the number one question I hear every day, is Why?

You see, I watch these little midgets disguised as toddlers. Every day, I can count on being asked Why about 555 times. Apparently, the little midget leader, where ever he or she might be, has decreed that the way to drive me insane the quickest is to ask me Why about every 30 seconds.

(The boys are in blue type. The inner monologue in my head is red.)

"Guys, it is time for lunch."

"Whyyyyy?" always hanging onto the end for dear life.

"Um, because I made lunch, and you need to eat."
Good god, here we go with the lunch time edition of my favorite show--Whyyyyy.

"Wobyn, whyyyyy do we need lunch?"
The taller midget asks, after conferring with the smaller one.

"Well if you don't eat, you won't grow. And if you don't grow, you will not be able to do some things. But that's neither here nor there. You just need to eat, ok?"
Not a hard concept. Hey was that an devilish glint in his eye as he asked me that? Nah. Can't be. Wait, there it is again.

I seat them in their respective chairs. Put the plates in front of them. For example yesterday, they had spaghetti with home made marinara sauce, home made meatballs, garlic foccacia bread, and red grapes. I mean they eat better then most adults eat. And yet, they feel the need to ask me again.

"We are having spaghetti and meatballs, and grapes guys. Mmmmm."
Eat. Eat the food. You can't ask me why if your mouth is full.

"Whyyyyyyyy Wobyn?"

Head banging on wall. Muttering inside my brain, because if I say out loud what I am muttering, then I will have little midgets who not only ask why, but then follow it up with words that should only come out of a sailors mouth.

"Just eat honey."
Do not engage. I repeat, do not engage. Divert attention. May day, may day. Crashing and burning here.

They eat, and it is all good for the 10-15 minutes it takes them to eat.

Now don't get me wrong, I love having them. I love watching them play, and have a great time. It is just after hearing Why for the 105th time, I hate the word. If the kiddos could read my mind, or knew what I was thinking, they would be amused to hear the phrases in my mind. That and they would learn new uses for words like hat, wit, and other various non threatening words.

Here is an example of the inner workings of my mind after about oh say 3 hours of why.

"Why, why not. I mean it isn't a hard concept. I know you are trying to make me crazy. It won't work I tell ya. I won't go crazy from the question torture. Wait, I am talking to myself. Great. Turning into a complete and total weirdo here. Only asshats talk to themselves. Only fuck wits answer themselves. Great. I am asking and answering my own questions. Is that the wall there? Ok, I may as well just brain myself now. It might stop this annoying inner monologue I have going on now. Let's see....right didn't work. Still going with the inner monologue. Jebus H Christ on a popsicle stick with sprinkles. Must find the children and play with them. That'll work. Yeah we can build with blocks. They love blocks. I am saved! Yippee yeehaw."

"Hey guys let's play with the blocks, it will be fun, fun, fun!"

"Whyyyyyyyyy?"

Thud.