I posted some time ago on my other (now closed) blog about the questions my son asks me. All the time. I dusted it off and updated it. (Think of it like those oh-so-fun re-cap episodes on long-running TV shows. You're welcome.)
My son likes to ask me the same questions. He gets the same answers, but I think he lives for the hope that one day I might forget I answered the question, or change my mind, or ... you know, forget I answered the question. Or maybe he just enjoys slowly driving me insane. It's a toss-up.
1. What's for dinner?
You never really want to know, son. You just hope the answer will be pizza. It's not like you want anything other than pizza, so the answer, unless it's pizza, never satisfies you. I know it's too much to hope you will eat a vegetable, but I have to keep trying. And no, Pepsi and a Kit Kat do not, and will not, EVER count as "dinner."
2. Why do you love the dogs more than me?
Love is infinite. I don't have to love something less to love you more. Please note: The dogs don't complain when I kiss and hug them and make smoochy woochy noises. Also, they never slam the door, get all grumpty-grump with me, and they like me ALL the time. They also never piss me off to the point I think about locking them in a closet, and two seconds later, even though I'm still FURIOUS with [insert HULK MOM ANGRY action here], they don't have the nerve to ask me to fix them something to eat. Seriously. That's love, kid.
3. Why do I have to go to school?
To get yourself an education so you can apply for college and move out of my house in five years. I just want what's best for you. And also, the return of my sanity. I love you. (No, I don't love the dogs more than you. See response to Question 2.)
4. Why do you have to work?
Yeah. I'm real sorry my deadlines and writing schedule interfere with my slave duties. (I've said it before, and I'll say it again, you're old enough to read directions and work a microwave.) The thing is, you enjoy food, shelter, and that Xbox 360, all of which cost money. I know you think I skip on over to the magic present forest and pluck all that we need from the enchanted trees of wonderfulness, but no, kid, I gotta work.
5. When will you get paid? I want _____.
You know how it works. Every so often, when it's the third Tuesday of the thirteenth month on a full moon and a blood sacrifice has been made, mommy gets a paycheck. After I do things like pay for food (lots and lots of food because you EAT EVERYTHING) and shelter and Xbox 360 points, we examine the tattered remains of my checking account and decide if you can have _____ and I can have chocolate. And vodka.