The Question Queen

"What are you doing, A-B-Mommy?" J asked as she joined us in the playroom after lunch. Yes, our names apparently are all one name in her mind.

"I'm trying to write down our conversation from this morning before I forget it," I answered as I unlocked the computer armoire.

"Tell everyone about how we went to the library for the Spanish storytime and it was all filled up and we couldn't stay and it was such a shame so we went to the library with the sliding doors and listened to stories about mice and made a mouse and the tail came off so I'm just pretending it has a tail," B dictated all in one breath. After reading my run-on sentences, is anyone surprised that my son apparently doesn't really know what a period is?

As we drove from one library to the next this morning, I missed the turn. When I finally realized it, I laughed and told the kids that I messed up and I had to turn around. J, my question queen, began the interregation:

"Why you mess up, Mommy?"
"I wasn't paying attention."
"Why?"
"I don't know, I just wasn't."
"Why we turn around, Mommy?"
"We have to turn around to get to the library."
"Why?"
"Because that's how we get to the library."
"Oh. Why you no pay 'tention?"
"I don't know."
"Why?"
"I just don't know, J!"
"Mommy, no screaming.
"Mommy, why you laughing?"
"I just am, J, I just am."