I Have a Question

"Mommy. Mommy!"

"What babe?"

"I hava quish...qu... ques-shtun for you."

That is a recent phrase for her. She must have discovered it's a good way to get our attention, but I don't think she realizes what it means. The habit she has of trying several times to get a difficult word right, however, is commonplace nowadays. I love to hear the syllables coming together, correctly, in her tiny mouth.

"Okay, babe. What's your question?"

Cambrie is sitting on a stool, leaning against the counter while I wash dishes. She's playing absentmindedly with this and that while we talk. "...Mommy?"

"What, babe?"

"A-Culios Geoge build a igloo ina house. A man a yellow hat sleeping a night."

"Yes, when the man in the yellow hat was sleeping, Curious George built an igloo inside the house. I remember that. Wasn't that silly?"

"Yes, was silly."

[small pause]

"Mommy, a-hava ques-shtun."

"Oh? What would you like to ask me?"

She pauses again, so I decide to help her out. "Hey, do you know what a question is? A question is when you ask somebody something. A question is something like, 'Do you like carrots?' or 'How far away is Christmas?' or 'Why is the sky blue?' "

"Oh." Another pause. "Mommy?"

"Yes, babe?"

A mischievous grin spreads across her face. "Why is the sky blue?"

Now I pause. I should have seen it coming. This is what I get for trying to be helpful. She repeats, this time her voice escalating into pure, two-year-old joy. "Why is the sky," big breath, then a huge exclamation, "BLUE!"

Oh boy. "The sky is blue because Heavenly Father made it that way."

Really? Is that the best I could come up with? I mean, sure, it's true, but even she is bored by my answer, barely acknowledging it. How is my daughter ever going to trust me to answer her big questions if I keep blowing the small ones off with the easy-road answers?

I try again.

"Hey, Cambrie, do you want to know why the sky is blue?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay, do you remember watching Sid the Science Kid when they learned about rainbows?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay, well remember how they got the rainbows by shining the light through crystals? Well waaaaay up in the sky there are lots of little water crystals, and when the light from the sun shines through the water crystals, it gives a blue color. So it makes the whole sky look blue."

Did I really just say all that to my two-year-old?

Yet another pause. I can't blame her, this time. Finally, ... "Oh."

I wait for more reaction, but as she starts playing again with whatever papers or tupperware or cups are sitting near her on the counter, I go back to scrubbing my pot. Well, for better or worse, that exchange is over. I'll be lucky if she remembers more than my reference to "Sid the Science Kid," but at least my mommy conscience is assuaged.

From the counter, though, comes that little voice. "Mommy?"

"What, babe?"

There's that little grin, again. It spreads slowly, the way it does when she knows what she's saying will get a reaction. My guess is this time, she's aiming for mommy's "flustered" reaction. "...Mommy, why is the sky blue? Blue! Why the sky BLUE!"

On she goes. By tomorrow, that phrase will be turned into a song she sings while she pushes her water-bottle-baby-brother around in her plastic shopping cart.

Well, I think it's safe to say my mommy conscience is no longer bothered. In fact, I think I've earned myself a good two more years of easy-road answers. Goodbye grammatical and scientific expositions, and hello "Because it is," and "Because I said so."

In the meantime, I'll just enjoy my little girl's musical compositions without saying a word.

This is Cambrie playing her "trumpet." Maybe she'll write in a trumpet part to "Why Is the Sky Blue?"