...Because, That's Why.

I can only imagine over the relatively short life of the interweb, that this topic has been hashed out and rehashed and then microwaved the morning after with a wicked hangover and then re-rehashed.  What fun and exciting topic could I be referring to you ask?  Could it be the topic of potty training?  Nope, not even close to that yet.  Possibly my 2 1/2 year old parroting his first curse word?  Nope, but I'm surprised that hasn't happened yet as he seems to repeat most other things that come out of my mouth.  Or how about what a finicky eater kids can be and how to deceptively get them to eat things that are good for them?  Not that either (but if you want to know the answer to that just tell them that whatever they are eating is "special" and that seems to solve most issues).  No my friends and avid blog followers (all three of you), the great mystery topic is much larger than any of those things...it is the age old question (nope, not how babies are made)...why?  That's not a question.  That's the answer.  Actually the question is the answer.  No, I'm not trying to get philosophical on you - I'm about as deep as a speed bump.  The question "why" has arrived and it has arrived in force.

A little backstory...

Since he was about 6 months old I've been eager to have some good ol'father/son chats.  Nothing crazy, just talking sports or toys or macro-economics - you know, the ushe (pronounced yu'sze...as in 'usual').  Because I am such a genius, I thought he would just start chattering away one day, in fully understandable sentences.  Even when that didn't quite happen, I thought for sure that he'd come around any day.  Two years later, that still isn't the case.  He can be a little tough to understand and he focuses in on one thing pretty often, like "where's mama?", "me want to eat", "me want to go", or "no me want to".  A lot of days we just talk about the same things over and over.  Not what I was expecting.  Everyone told me to be careful what I asked for...they were right.  He talks.  He is a regular chatterbox, it's just about stuff I don't want to talk about.  Weird, I know.

About 2-3 weeks ago, he dropped a bomb on me.  I told him it was time to change his diaper and he looked up at me and asked "Why, Dadda?"  At first I thought he had said "cry Dadda."  Which is a game he likes to play with Mrs. Griswold Wanna-Be, where he tells her to cry and she fake cries.  I've never cared much for the game as I don't think it's appropriate for him to believe it's okay or funny to make people cry - so as a famous clown once eloquently said "Homey don't play dat."  I turned back to him and said "Dadda doesn't play 'cry', now lets go change your diaper."  Again he said "Why, Dadda?"  This time I picked up on the subtle difference between his pronunciation of "cry" and "why".  I wasn't sure what to say, he'd never needed explanations before.  So I just said "because your butt stinks and I don't want to smell your butt."  Yes I know, my 'best parent of the year' award is in the bag.  I thought we were done.  I was wrong.  He asked again: "Why, Dadda?"  Why what?  Why does your butt smell or why don't I want to smell it?  Eff it, I'll answer both.  "Your butt smells because you pooped.  And I don't want to smell it because it smells gross."  Then it happened, the moment of epiphany...he said "ohhhhh."

Those moments of "ohhhh" are great.  It makes me feel like I explain things well.  If I can get a 2 1/2 year old to understand something, then the rest is cake.  But every now and then, there is no epiphany-like moment.  So the "whys" just keep coming.  So by the hundredth "why" the other day, I brought out the big guns and dropped the infamous and irrefutable "because".  Nothing else.  Just "because".  Ha!  Nothing you can say to that now can you smart guy?!  If this was 7th grade, I would have held the palm of my hand up to his face and said "FACED!"  There was no coming back from this, like the well worn tale of the tortoise and the hare - no need to tell you who I was.  Then he did it.  I never even saw it coming.

"Why, Dadda?"

And with that, apparently I am the hare.

Son, you are a worthy adversary.