>Too Many Questions
>HER: “Mommy, can ants kill you?”
ME: “No, ants can’t kill you.”
HER: “Some ants can kill you, though. Mary told me.”
ME: “I don’t think so.”
HER: “I do.”
ME: (sigh)
HER: “Mommy, why can’t I feel my hands?”
ME: “What? What’s wrong with your hands? They look fine to me.”
HER: “I can’t find them anywhere. Where are they?” (Giggle, giggle.)
ME: “Uh, they’re behind your back.”
HER: “Mommy, can I invite someone over?”
ME: “No, honey, all your friends are in preschool right now or live very far away.”
HER: “Aww. Mommy, what does ‘what’ mean?
ME: “…Huh?”
HER: “I said, what does ‘what’ mean?
ME: “It means, uhhh, it means… Oh, I don’t know what it means!”
HER: “Yes you do!”
ME: “No I don’t.”
HER: “Mommy, why did you tell me you’re the mommy and you know everything?”
ME: “Ohhhh, yeah, well because I do.”
HER: “No you don’t, you don’t know what ‘what’ means!”
ME: “Okay, no more questions.”
HER: “What do you mean, Mommy?”
ME: “You’ve used up your question quota for the day.”
HER: “Awwww. Hey, who are you?”
ME: (sigh)
HER: “Where am I? What’s your name? Who am I?”
ME: “Do you have a head owie again?”
HER: “How did you know?”
ME: “Because you play this game all the time! I never should have let you watch that Spongebob DVD.”
HER: “Mommy, why is why?”
ME: “That’s it! No! More! Questions!”
HER: Really? Do you mean it?
ME: Yes!
HER: (Bursts into tears.)
ME: (Feels rotten.)
THE END.
This post originally appeared on Parents.com.
