Today, the family went to the mall for the annual visit to Santa Claus. I was dropped off at the front door to stand in line for Santa, while the Big Hairy Monster and Punkin Jr. parked the car. The following conversation occurred after I made my exit.
Punkin Jr: I'm glad she's gone.
Big Hair Monster: That's a terrible thing to say. Why would you say that about your mom?
PJ: Because she asks too many questions.
BHM: But that's good. I like it, your mom wants to get information.
PJ: Well, I don't.
Sigh. When I heard this, I had mixed emotions. Part of me was proud that I'm like all other parents and I'm involved in our daughter's interest and well-being. The other part of me didn't want to be that annoying parent that asked a stupid question every five seconds. Not to mention, that I've been teased by my family because I have always asked a lot of questions. I am the inquisitive type. How else do you find out important (and nosy) pieces of infomation about people you meet? People love to talk about themselves and what better way to get that conversation going is to ask a question. Or not. When talking to my dad about this incident, he admitted he had the same affliction. I just thought it would take longer for my four-year-old daughter to find a kink in my armour.
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