Sunday, 23 August 2009

Questions, questions

My son Joe asks a lot of questions and when I say a lot I mean thousands and thousands and thousands. In fact, if he were reading this it would be like this.

Frazzled (that’s funny daddy, what’s frazzled?) Daddy (oh that’s you, you’re daddy aren’t you daddy? I’m Joseph aren’t I? J-O-S-E-P-H that’s how you spell Joseph, isn’t it daddy?)
Dispatches (what’s dispatches daddy?) from the frontline (what’s a frontline? Is there a back one daddy?) of fatherhood (Who’s Farmer Hood daddy?)...questions, questions (what questions daddy? Daddy? Daddy? Why are you weeping Daddy?).

We were listening to the radio the other day and one thing led to another and before I knew where I was I had to try and explain why the radio sounds quieter the further away you are from it. He’s three for christsakes how does he know that physics is my Achilles heel..? How does he know that I could never ever, no matter how hard I tried, understand anything that Mr Kokinos said during physics class? Maybe if I’d had a teacher with as slightly less amusing and rude sounding name I might have done better, who knows. However, I didn’t and I didn’t and now my boy, my own flesh and blood is able to land such powerful punches on my already fragile and frazzled sense of daddydom. I mean what is up with that..? Oh god, now I’m asking questions.

So, the other day I thought I’d write down every question Joe asked in 24 hours.
Pretty soon I realised that I’d need more paper to chronicle this than existed in the world so I decided to write down every question he asked in one hour.

Then I got real and decided that a five minute period would be best.

Also please bear in mind that all these questions were interspersed with a sporadic rendition of the new Thomas the Tank Engine theme tune. If by some miracle you haven’t heard it then I hate you because in the annoying league it’s possibly only just pipped by the Wiggles.

FYI If you haven’t heard of the Wiggles then you’re reading the wrong blog.

Daddy is the bath ready? x4
Daddy, will you get in with me? X4
Why is the hot water coming out? (Pointing to the hot tap)
Why is the steam coming out?
Why is the hot water coming out?
Is the water going faster?
Can I get in the bath yet? X7
The following are part of a game we play in the bath where he asks me what I want for a specific meal while I try – very much like Dr Zarkov in the movie Flash Gordon – to think of happy thoughts, songs from the Beatles, anything to help get me through.
What you like for breakfast daddy?
What you like for pudding? (I didn’t point out that you don’t have pudding for breakfast, although I nearly did)
What you like for lunch?
Daddy, can you get me out of the bath?
What you like for pudding?
What you like for lunch?
After my sleep can we do the puzzle?
What’s Sam (my other son who’s eight months old) doing?
Is Sam going to roll over again?
Do you need your diary daddy?
Daddy where are your stickers?


The funny thing is that when there’s silence in the house or Joe stops speaking and asking questions for a moment I say, like one of Pavlov’s hounds, ‘you OK Joe?’.


1 comment:

  1. Love it. Made me giggle and I'm not even a parent! I will say one thing though... I had Mr Randall for physics and you probably wouldn't have been much better off with him instead, because nobody could never get the image of him head-to-toe in Lycra out of their head.
    PS. I'm amazed you even remembered 'Mr.K's' full name.