I consider myself to be a fairly intelligent person, but I didn’t realize that I needed to be a walking encyclopedia once I became a mother. The inquisitive little minds of my 3-year-old twins keep me busy all day answering questions…at least trying to answer them.

Here are just a few of the questions I’ve been asked recently. Why does snow melt? Why do ants sting? Does the lake sleep? Why do we have bones? Where does Jesus live? Why can’t some people walk? Where does food go when it gets to my tummy? Is there a man in that Chick-fil-A cow? Why are some people old? Why does he have a ponytail? Why is the moon following me in the car? How does water get to the sink? Does poo poo start with the letter P?

Just this morning over breakfast I was caught off guard by a rather amusing question. Why can’t Daddy have a baby in his tummy? Hmmm. I think we are dangerously close to a conversation about where babies come from. I thought they’d at least make it to kindergarten before treading on that territory.

Mila is my constant questioner. She’s either preparing for a future career as a journalist or a prosecutor. Mila demands answers, and she doesn’t like it when I don’t have them or they doesn’t satisfy her curiosity. Yesterday her preschool had a fire drill, and she wanted to know why the class had to leave the room through the backdoor. “I don’t know,” I said.

“No, tell me, Mommy. You know,” she said.” Why did we have to go to the back door?”

“I don’t know. Mommy doesn’t know everything.”

“Why can’t you just know?

I suppose I should relish these moments now. I have a feeling that when she becomes a teenager she won’t think Mommy knows everything.

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