I think our son might one day be a college philosophy professor; his preferred means of engaging in conversation is to ask questions. Currently, he favors asking "What are you?" This question gets posed to every stranger that crosses his path- the man waiting for his takeout at Chin Chin's Chinese Restaurant, the woman who happened to walk down the same Target aisle as us, the librarian, the cashier, the dog walker. Usually this question is received with a puzzled but amused look, and some attempt at an answer. Most commonly heard is "I'm good! How are you?" (To which Max inevitably responds, "Good. What are you?" I still haven't figured out an answer that will satisfy him.)
Lately, at least around home, his questioning has gone to new heights. Instead of saying, "Look at me! I'm (fill in the blank)-ing!" like normal kids do, he turns it into a question. Tonight, for example, he ran into the living room and danced in circles on the rug, yelling "Am I dancing? Am I dancing? Am I dancing? Am I dancing?" until I finally asked him, "Are you dancing?"
"Yes." he said, and stopped.
Generally I am the one who finally caves into the incessant questioning, but today I don't have much of a voice. So I passed the torch to Paul, who at first tried to ignore him... but couldn't as easily ignore my glare from across the table after Max purposely threw himself on the ground and began: "Did I fall? Did I fall? Did I fall? Did I fall? Did I fall? Did I fall? Did I-" "Did you fall, Max?"
"Yes."
Then Paul decided to turn the tables. "Am I sitting on a chair?" he asked. "Am I sitting on a chair? Am I sitting on a chair? Am I sitting on a chair?" He could have done it all night... no response from Max. The kid was completely oblivious. I don't think that's quite fair.
I think Paul doesn't mind this questioning phase - every true philosopher knows you don't ever actually tell people anything. You just keep asking them questions until they figure it out for themselves.
Sooooo... food for thought: What are you?
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