[from Beth] Perpetual-question Colin was enjoying a cookie in the car on the way home from swimming.
“Mom, how did they make this cookie?” He asked.
“In the oven.”
“No, Mom. HOW did they make this cookie?”
Uh, oh. “Um,” I said, “with love?”
“MOM, HOW did they make this COOKIE!”
After three questions, and I’m still not getting it, I usually go with the information overload approach. It’s better than yelling that I don’t UNDERSTAND the QUESTION, but still in the “Shock and Awe” spectrum of parenting.
“Well, Colin, they took about two and a quarter cups of flour, mixed it with a teaspoon each of baking soda and salt. Then they creamed about a half cup of butter with two eggs, a teaspoon of vanilla and three quarters cup each of brown and white sugar …”
“That’s enough Mom,” he said.
“Then they mixed all those ingredients together with about a pound of semi sweet chocolate chips …”
“MOM, that’s ENOUGH.”
Mike says I should note this in my calendar as the day Colin received more information than he asked for.