Talk about an easy prompt to ramble on about! Sunday Scribblings' prompt is a breeze. So many thoughts come to mind.
I have three kids under the age of 12. I am asked inane and simplistic questions all day long. "Can I go swimming?" "Will you make Daughter play with me?" "Can I have a [jelly sandwich/some Goldfish/some grapes/something from the stash/a yogurt/cereal]? Can I go to [Julian's/Mason's/Elena's/Patrick's]? Can [Jay/Patrick/Mason] sleepover? Can we sleep in the trailer tonight? What are you watching? Will you tuck me in? Why is the moon out in the daytime? What is Corrie eating?
And they also ask their share of dire questions. Who should I wake up if I have a nightmare? Have you ever been divorced? Why did Zoe have to move? Am I going to die (because of a bloody nose or something else innocuous)?
On and on and on, day in and day out. It is never ending. Sitting here, typing this as I make the original Macaroni & Cheese for the two boys' Saturday night dinner, I smile at the questions they ask. In the moment, though, I'm not necessarily so patient.
Along the vein of their often-difficult questions, I've got plenty of those of my own.
Why do the parents of a friend of my eldest son park the kid in day care after school, even when the mother is no longer working and hasn't worked for more than 18 months? What is it about the boy, or, more likely, about the parents that drives them to do this?
What makes a 40-year-old man decide his life is not what he wanted? His wife, his 8-year-old daughter and 5-year-old son are unable to give him whatever it is he desires or needs. What is it they can't provide him? What's inside him to just enable him to walk away with such ease?
What compels me to read the horror stories going on in the world, in the country, in my own town? Try as I might to avoid the devastating headlines and not click through, there I am, reading about the latest massacre or child abuse or what-have-you.
What are so many people lacking in their own lives that causes them to follow the goings-on of celebrities?
Why, nearing 50, am I still with so little gray hair but three cervical disks are deteriorating at such a frightening pace?
Why do the parents of my daughter's friend invite her for a sleepover and, when we appear to drop her off, the husband is so drunk he can barely stand?
Why ask questions to which there are no answers?