When our oldest of three ‘baby girls’ approached age three years, her main vocabulary consisted of questions: Why? How? What’s that?
Asking why her Mommy was expanding at the middle, she was told another little sister was inside, on the way. The next day, she shocked the elderly couple who came to dinner when she asked:
“Mommy, is the food you’re eating falling on the baby’s head?”
Another time Sheryl asked, “where are we going?” Daddy answered, “Mommy is driving me to a meeting.”
“Why?”
“Because your Daddy belongs to the Chisholm Trail Council board of directors, and we meet every month.” She frowned. Didn’t know what to ask next, I hoped.
When the car stopped at the red light, little ‘Sherry’ looked across the road and saw the tall silo with a sign that read Paymaster Feeds.
She pointed and asked, “What’s that big round house?”
Daddy answered, “that’s where they keep food to feed the cows and the chickens.”
“Why do they feed the cows?”
“So they will make milk.”
“How do they make milk?”
Exasperated Father chose a long answer, “the cows chew the feed, swallow, goes to their stomach, and their metabolism turns the food into a lactic juice that turns to milk. Then they homogenize the milk before they bottle.”
That stopped her…for a moment.
“Okay. Let’s talk about the chickens.”
We arrived at the meeting. I escaped, leaving her to question her mother on the way home.
Photo credit: Magda Ehlers
