The other day when I was picking my son up from preschool, one
of his teachers stopped me. “I have to tell you something your son did today”
she said. My heart dropped. I felt like I’d been sent to the principal’s
office.
Then she told me that my son was playing with blocks and when
the tower started to fall, he exclaimed, “IT’S THE LEANING TOWER OF PISA!”
“How does he know that?!” she asked.
I knew that by the time I had a three year old he'd be able to
talk and I imagined some (mostly one-sided)
conversations we'd be able to have, the songs we'd be able to sing, but I never
realized just how much a kid that young could understand.
On a typical ride in the car we jump across subjects. Sometimes
I find myself explaining why people don't eat bones. "Because we
don't" will not slide. So instead I explain how our bodies aren't equipped
to digest them and dive into specifics about the anatomical differences between
our teeth and dog's teeth (assuming this
is why he's asking).
Other days my son pokes different parts of his face and asks,
"why is this hard?" And I describe the human skeleton to him. When I
use a word he doesn't know he asks me what it means, and he stops to ask
thoughtful questions (Then why isn't my
stomach hard? Where did my stomach bones go?) When he's satisfied, he immediately
switches to a new topic. He wants to know if car accidents hurt, if running
over a bird will stop it from flying, how we are affected by other drivers on
the road (if that car hits that car will
WE get hurt?). It's beyond any scenario I ever imagined.
I try not to say I don't know too often because I hate that
answer. Let's be honest, no one—regardless of age—likes that response. So
instead I pose questions back to him when I can't answer something. When he
asks me how someone feels I encourage him to think how he would feel in the
same situation.
"Would Luke be sad if I took his blocks?"
"Well, would you be sad if Luke took YOUR blocks"
"Hmmm yeah I would. Cause that's not very nice."
I have to admit though, when he asks me the name of the stranger
walking down the street, where they live, and if they have kids, I do have to
resort to I don't know (although even
then I try to give him a little bit more... I don't know because I've never met
that person). And when he asks if he can roll down the window and ask, I
find myself weighing the pros and cons of the stranger danger talk.
