My children often ask me perplexing, if not bizarre, questions. And I feel like the lamest mother on the planet when I don’t have the answers they seek. While I do answer them, it is not in any intelligent way.
Here are some examples of the thought-provoking questions (several involving Santa) that they’ve asked me, and my idiotic answers:
9-year old: “Can Santa see the future?”
Answer: “Um, uh I don’t think so. But let me google it.”
7-year old: ”Who is older, Santa or God?”
Me: “God made Santa, so God.”
9-year old: “How can we see the stars from Earth if outer space is out of this world?
Me: ”So, the sun orbits the… and it reflects the… whatever… You know what? Just ask Uncle Rob. Or Grandma. One of them can explain it to you.”
7-year old: “Does it hurt when you die?”
Me: “It depends on how you die. Wait, what? Why are you asking me this? Let’s talk about something else.”
9-year old: “I know how God sees us. The Earth is His eyeball. Makes sense, right mom?”
Me: “Okay… yeah. Sure. Why not? Sounds good to me”
Me: “Let’s see… your scooter goes 15 miles per hour, RI is, I don’t know, a few hundred miles away, so let’s see… hmmm… you know what, my brain is starting to hurt. You’re not allowed to ride your scooter to RI.”
9-year old: “Everything I think about is happening right now, right?”
9-year old: ”Right now, if I think about somebody getting his tonsils out, that’s happening somewhere, right?”
Me: “Yeah, probably.”
9-year old: ”So, how many people are in the world, 7 billion?
9-year old: ”So, how many of those are getting their tonsils out right now?”
Me: “Good Lord, child, I don’t know. What do you want for dinner tonight?”
Eloquent, huh? Sometimes I amaze myself with my own stupidity.
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