Let it be recorded that yesterday, it started with a simple question. THE question, in fact. “Pou-kwaa?” This utterance, a first attempt at “pourquoi?” Why. My son was playing on his own in the living room, driving toy cars over the coffee table. I looked over at him and smiled. Something had clicked in his head. I had just listened to it happen.
“Hey, babe, I think our kid has just entered the ‘why’ stage.” I mentioned to my wife. For some strange reason, her razor-sharp motherly hearing hadn’t picked up on the word. It had blended into the babble. She was just happy that he was making noise, since that’s an indication that he’s not getting into trouble.
I smiled. It isn’t often that I pick up on something our kid is doing before she does. For the most part, I’ll come rushing up to her, proudly holding the boy aloft “Hey, hey, hey! He just did X for the first time!”
“That’s nice, dear. But he’s been doing that for the past three months.” is the typical underwhelmed response I receive. Chalk one up for the record books. I’m even fairly certain that my mind hasn’t made this one up. Awesome!
And now we brace ourselves for the coming onslaught of questions that will assail us for the next decade-and-a-half. I am now absolutely certain that we will not be spared the rapid fire barrage of queries and inquisitiveness that will have us sighing as we explain for the hundred millionth time why the sky is blue or why we have to eat our greens.
And you know what? That’s just fine, because it’s a sign our little critter’s mind is developing and on its way to making him one heck of a guy.