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Muffin Man seldom asks "Why?" He just pretends he didn't hear us. So I find myself saying, "What did Mommy say?" and "You're not being a good listener."
A mother I know tells me that when her son says, "Why?" She just says "Zee." and that's her final answer.
Have you ever tried turning it back on him? Either by asking "Why are you being difficult right now?" or "Why do you think that is?"
I've tried "Why do you think that is" lots, with some few successes. But I love "Why are you being difficult right now?"
I bet I'll have occasion to try it at least once before dinner.
(Phantom, it's Pooleski. But I just got this spam from Vexatious O. Culbertson, and it was too cool a name to let go.)
This reminds me of an old comedy routine, back from the days when PS and I were in school together. Father and son talking; son says "daddy why this, daddy why that, why is the sky blue, why is the sun in the sky, why is there atmosphere..."
Daddy says, "Two minutes ago you were sitting in your own crap, now you're Carl Sagan?!?!"
Ladies and gentlemen, one of my oldest friends, Vexatious O. Culbertson! Welcome to the commenting pixie party, Vex old pal!
Vex was on the mailing list for the original hand-copied Phantom Scribbler handouts. Ah, those were the days.
You're all just lucky that she's too busy for her own blog. She can keep those jokes up ALL DAY.
The problem we have now is that he treats our explanations as a challenge: "Oh, is that the issue? Let me think. I have the solution!"
Oh my god, he's gonna grow up to be a lawyer.
Yeah, APL. Considering that he was named for two tax attorneys -- one on Mr. Blue's side, one on mine -- he may not have a choice in the matter.
Vex was on the mailing list for the original hand-copied Phantom Scribbler handouts. Ah, those were the days.
Yes, back in the old days... when we had to walk ten miles to school in the snow and we had no feet. Or wait, was it bike ten miles to Phantom's house and we had no ice cream?
Hey, we had LOTS of ice cream at Phantom's house. And Coke. And Diet Coke. And Diet Caffeine-Free Coke. And Diet Caffeine-Free Cherry Coke....
I can't remember NOT having to give explanations. I find I do it now no matter what.
"Because I said so"? I wish.
I was a "why"-er as a child, and my mother made stuff up to keep me quiet. I'm 32 now, and still I occasionally realize that something I have seriously believed for my whole life is, well, a lie.
I love that he has a "special way" of throwing sad. What a great kid.
I just bet I'm going to end up with a kid like that. 
Vexatious -- for a while I was getting tons of spam from whoever sent out that one -- the list of names was highly amusing, even though the spam itself was not.
LG for president!
Only thirty-some more years till he's eligible!
Oh, god, this is what I have to look forward to? (trembling)
Thanks for stopping by my blog!
Hey, welcome to the commenting pixie party, Amy! Sorry to give you a glimpse of the future like that....
This post reminds me of a David Kirby poem--when he was a kid he asked his mom to play strip poker, not understanding the point of the game, and she simply said "no thanks" without offering any explanation. From there he goes into how his parents never explained anything, which forced him to make up his own, which made him all imaginative and shit, but also made him question the value of any explanation. Oh, I'm gonna track that one down and post it.
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