My kids are both still very much in ‘question asking’ mode.
The four year old constantly and without pause, and the seven year old occasionally, but in anticipation of an intelligent answer.
This is good. I have always encouraged them to ask questions.
Although I occasionally perform an off-the-cuff u-turn and suggest they stop asking so many questions and go and watch telly like ‘normal’ children, most of the time I’m all ears.
The problem with questions, is the answers.
Often, they lead to more questions.
Which need more answers.
Nudey-ladies on the internet
As the dad to two young boys, I am watching the outward evidence of the hormones that increasingly course through their systems with a weird mixture of amusement, pride, and terror.
At some point they will unleash their ‘maleness’ on the world, and we can only hope that we’ve parented them well enough that this goes off smoothly.
Part of that transition will involve the discovery that the internet is chock full of nudey-ladies. It’s possible that nudey-ladies might not be their thing, which is fine, but if they are, they’re gonna have questions.
“Who are they?”, “Who put them there?” and, my particular favourite, “Mummy…from a feminist perspective, are these nudey-ladies being empowered or exploited, and why?”
I have answers to these questions available immediately, but I have no intention of letting the worms out of the can just yet. The four year old will still take anything I say with a shrug and a puzzled acceptance, but the seven year old will not.
He will have follow up questions, and sub-clauses, and will want to know whether the nudey-ladies are happy.
He might also ask why my generation thought it wise to launch the internet without first figuring out the appropriate checks and balances; which is, you have to say, a great question.
I reckon I’ve got about 18 months to do some serious research before I’m faced with that particular grilling.
There’s not a moment to lose.