To Tell the Truth

Sometimes I think my daughter just doesn’t “get” questions. Not ones that are asked of her, at least. Very often, we will get a question returned to us, as if the question were really meant for us.

“What did you do at school today?” we will ask. “What?” she will reply. Oh, we’ll get a response of “nothing” eventually, but most questions go this way.

“Tell mommy who we saw at the park..” – “Who?”

“What did we see at the store?” – “What?”

Again, upon further questioning, she’ll sometimes give the answer. Either that, or she’ll say, “You tell mommy…”

Well, the other day, we were playing and my daughter was brushing my hair. “You have gold hair, daddy.” Right, gold. “No, sweetie, that’s a gray hair. I have a lot up front,” I said, lifting my bangs, “right here, see?”

“Wow, that’s a lot!”

“Yeah, thanks. Do you know how I got those?” I asked her. I fully expected to hear, “How?” I was surprised when she got it right on the first try and said, “Me!”

That’s right, kiddo. And when your brother is older, I’ll be getting them twice as fast.


2 Responses to To Tell the Truth

  1. Darren says:

    We still play that game. I’ll say, “Tell Mom what we did today,” and even if it was mere minutes earlier, Clare won’t remember. It usually ends with Clare’s Mom saying, “Will somebody just tell me!”

  2. Seriously, 16 months ago no gray hair. Today, my locks are shot with it! Oh well, it makes me look distinguished…

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