thinking

Today Sarah tapped Alyssa's temple and said, "I'm helping her think."

I wish someone would help me think.

Vox purpli

I was driving the girls home after visiting Shannon and Alyssa in the hospital today. Sarah apparently had been working out her best shot at the Random Question of the Day, because she suddenly queried, "Daddy, what color is your voice?"

I wasn't sure I heard that right, but upon my request she repeated the question. Now, I've learned from experience a bit about how to respond to questions that don't seem to be founded on aspects of my daily reality: I acknowledge the question and then return it. It often helps to clarify exactly what the person had in mind when they asked. So, in this case I responded, "That's a good question Sarah; I'm not sure I've thought about that before. What color do you think your voice is?"

"Well, I think it's kind of yellowish."

So I guess she did mean to ask what the color of my voice was. "I suppose my voice is probably dark blue...or dark green. Probably dark green," I said. "What color do you think Mommy's voice is?"

"Pink. And Emmie's is brown."

So, sorry, Shannon, we're mostly a warm-color family.

Last night at dinner...

After a thousand or more questions, many of which had obvious or no answers available (like why does Emmie like milk, why are you setting the table, and when are we going to bring Alyssa home) Alan told Sarah that we would not answer any more questions until after dinner. She turned to him and said, "But Honey, if I don't ask any more questions my body will get angry."

Ahhh, so that's why they ask questions. It's a method of anger management. Someone should get their PHD on this.