Why?

I knew it was coming, and just like that - - yesterday it began. The Why Syndrome. Before Greta, I never spent much time around children except for those I lived with in Africa. Even my nieces and nephews have pretty much always lived far away. Despite the cultural differences and the long distances, I have been aware that at some point during Age Two, Greta would begin asking "Why?" a lot. Yesterday, something shifted inside her little 28-pound frame, and "Why?" began spilling forth. And the spicket is wide open.

G: What's that, Mama?
T: It's an old shirt that you've never seen before.
G: Why?
T: Because I haven't worn it lately.
G: Why?
T: Because it was hiding way in the back of my closet.
G: Why?
T: Because the clothes in there were all squished together and I couldn't see it until today.
G: Why?
T: Did you enjoy basketball last night and would you like some more milk?
G: [big smile]

Lesson learned - - when pummeled with "Why?" just change the subject and offer milk. Works like a charm.