Reese asks a lot of questions. A lot. It's not unusual for her to string three or four together, rapid-fire, until you find yourself dizzy, not knowing which one to attempt to answer first.
"Are all doorknobs on all doors everywhere the same size? What would happen if a doorknob was the size of a door? How would people manage to get into a room if a doorknob was that big? Wouldn't that be crazy?"
And I nod and confirm, "Yes, yes it would be crazy," while I wonder, "How on earth are you this curious about everything?"
I attempted to find out by using the same technique. "Why do you ask so many questions?"
She has an answer, of course. It's because she wants to learn a lot, and that she knows she can learn by asking questions. After all, she adds, she's seen this done on Dinosaur Train and Sid the Science Kid. "Don't you think that it's a good idea to ask lots of questions?"
And I have to nod and confirm, "Yes, yes, I do," while I want to add, "Just please, please don't start at 6:30 in the morning as you're apt to do."
These questions are a phase, and phases ebb and flow in the lives of children.
We've witnessed phases when a child has an innate desire to tape things to the walls. Phases when shoes are always worn on the wrong feet. Phases when drawers are systematically emptied again (and again).
I've been wistful at the passage of some, like when Brooke finally learned how to pronounce "elbow" properly instead of pointing to the crook of her arm and sweetly calling it her "elmo."
Kerrington's phase of staccato laughing -- an adorable "eh-eh-eh" that somehow always reminded me of Burt from Sesame Street -- is already winding to a close.
So, what's phasing in your household now?