I Don’t Know

What is it that makes kids investigative journalists? I mean, if we just sent our kids into governments and corporations, I’m sure we’d soon discover all of their inner workings and hidden secrets.

Seriously, where do my kids get these questions? Are they bored? Are they testing me?

Just a few snippets from my afternoon driving between Bellevue and Brentwood to get haircuts.

(Passing Forest Hills Baptist Church with lots of kids carrying backpacks milling about outside):

Su: Mommy, is that a school?
Me: No, it’s not a school. It’s a church.
Su: Well, there are kids out there with backpacks.
Me: OK. Maybe it’s a preschool.
Su: No. Those kids look much older than that. So, what is it, Mom, what? What is it?
Me: I don’t know.


Se: Mommy, remember when we went to the doctor and I peed in a cup?
Me: Yes, I do.
Se: That was neat.


What’s that building?
Do you like it?
What do they do in that building?
What’s that noise?
Where’s my flip-flop?
Can I have some juice?
Are we having pizza for dinner?


(Going down Old Hickory Boulevard near Christ Presbyterian Church):

Su: Mom, if we lived out here, could I go to my school?
Me: No.
Su: Where would I go to school?
Me: Hmmm. Probably Percy Priest.
Su: Could the bus come pick me up for my school?
Me: No. You’d have to go to Percy Priest.
Su: What’s Percy Priest?
Me: It’s the school where kids who live out here go.


(Passing lots of kids running around in a field at the corner of Edwin Warner Park):

Su: Mom, what are they doing?
Me: Looks like they are running.
Su: Why are they running?
Me: I don’t know. Maybe it’s a track meet.
Su: Are they my age?
Me: No. I think they are teenagers, but I really don’t know.


(Turning onto Granny White Pike off of OHB):

Su: Mom, if we lived here, could I still go to my school?
Me: No. Ummm. I don’t even think we are in the county anymore. This is Williamson county now.
Su: What’s a county?
Me: I don’t know. I really don’t know.