I’ve had an internal monolog running in my head since I was probably 3-4 years old. I know I spent a lot of those first aware years—between 3 and 5—firing questions at my father almost non-stop. Asking him why this, or why that. Questions he always patiently answered. And, despite my best efforts, he always, but always, had an answer for me. Whether any of those answers were scientifically correct was neither here nor there. If I wanted to know why whales had holes on the top of the head, my father had an answer for me.
Our routine got so that he started calling me, Miss Why. He would come home from work, and we would share dinner together—this mostly because at the time I refused to eat all day long till Daddy came home, and I insisted then on eating what he ate. This phase lasted a very long time, throughout the three years we lived in Hong Kong I think. What broke that particular streak? Him having tripe (sheep’s intestines and stomach lining) and onions for dinner, one night, when we were back living in the UK.
Of course, there was no way this stubborn 5 year old was eating tripe.
And so, at roughly the same time I started full time school, I stopped having dinner with my father, and started eating with the *other* kids, my siblings. And, in doing so, apparently, turned my torrent of non stop thought into firing endless questions at them.
You may ask me why I never spent my day firing questions at my mother and the answer could probably be because, as a small child, I spent a lot of those early years going everywhere with her. And, in doing so, we talked all day long about everything. Our conversations always, without me realising, being her teaching me and, in her own way, answering questions before I even asked them.
That inquisitive internal monolog hasn’t quietened or for one second stopped (other than in deep sleep). I’m still asking questions like, “What do ants do when it rains?”
These days, without siblings or parents to bombard with questions, I use my writing as an outlet, plus scribbling furiously into a daily journal like my life depended on it. And, in a way, I suppose it does.
NaBloPoMo: 25/30 / Photo by Tsuyoshi Kozu on Unsplash
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This was such a fun post to read and I really enjoyed another glimpse into your childhood.
Dare I admit I rather enjoy the fact my kids are generally past the Why stage. It was tiresome as an adult, but also clearly such an important part of development and I tried to encourage them to ask lots of questions (they still do, but fewer circular reasoning loops that seem never-ending). Now, for the most part, the teenager doesn’t really want to hear me answer anything. She just so happens to be an expert on EVERYTHING! How convenient.
Aww, thank you for that. I’m actually having fun doing the NaBloPoMo challenge by taking these little trips down memory lane, to share with everyone. I wasn’t sure whether they would be interesting to anyone, so it’s nice to see so many comments.
I was lucky enough to be brought up in a different time one without TV and smart phones. One where we read a lot and the family played a lot of board games.
And yeah, teenage years can be the hardest. Especially for a girl. I can’t imagine what it’s like on either side of the fence, for you, or for your daughter.
Miss Why, that’s very cute. I don’t remember anything from such early age. You were a real daddy’s girl then? That’s so cute too. You could write your memoir if you haven’t already, it would be a great read I’m sure.
My earliest memories are patchy and vague. But I have some very distinct ones too and yes, oh yes, back then, I was very much Daddy’s little girl.
Memoir? Oh my, I really don’t think I could write one not even with my background in print and publishing. The sheer scope of it is daunting. I’ll stick to little anecdotes here, on the blog. Maybe one day I’ll have enough to create a book from but, till then …
I agree with iHanna – you could absolutely write a memoir. I love these glimpses into your childhood and the way you write brings me right into the story.
I’m also someone who always wants to know WHY. I am constantly googling the oddest questions, haha.
Aww, thank you, Stephany.Maybe one day I’ll have enough of these little stories to collect together.
Oh, I love that you too are a googler looking stuff up. I’m always falling down the rabbit hole they should call me Alex in Wonderland. Ha! Ha!
I love the glimpse into your relationship with your mom, your dad, and your siblings. All seem to be good relationships. You wouldn’t eat until your dad was there, I wonder if that was tiring for your mom? If you got grumpy and tired from low blood sugar? Of if she gave you little snacks throughout the day and you didn’t think of them as meals, since you worn’t sitting down with your siblings? See, we’re all nosy and these little glimpses are interesting to us.
I had a great relationship as a child with my parents. It wasn’t till my late teenage years things got a little off-kilter.
And you know. I never thought to ask my mum about that? I know she said I lived off frozen lollies which is probably where I got enough water and sugar to keep me going. And, I remember her saying I use to eat breakfast with her. So I wasn’t exactly starving.
Oh, the why phase. I think all kids go through them but the real trick is to never stop asking questions. 🙂
Oh, indeed that fun curious stage of wanting to know literally everything. And yes, you’re right, hopefully we never grow out of asking those questions.