I've officially figured out why my mind is so tired come the end of the day. I'd been noticing that my son is a bit more inquisitive than most kids his age, and I thought to myself, "I'll bet I answer a hundred questions a day." So I started counting.
I was close. The boy asked me one hundred fifty-eight questions... in the first hour. I kid you not. The grand total for the day (not including the time he spent away from me) was five hundred twenty-nine. The total would have nearly doubled if I'd counted up all the times he repeated his question three times before I could open my mouth to answer, or the fact that he said "What?" every time I spoke.
I personally fielded over five hundred whos, whats, wheres, whens, and especially whys. I said "I don't know" fifty or sixty times. I explained everything from how-does-skin-fix-itself to why-can-planes-fly to when-am-i-going-to-get-the-biggest-bicep-in-the-world.
I'm grateful to be the one chosen to teach this child. I'm hoping a few of those answers sink in. And that he learns to find some of those answers on his own.
And that my brain holds out that long.