Tell Me Why
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June 20, 2017
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The boys, Christopher (left) and Nico at an Archery lesson during the summer vacation at Unicoi State Park ,June 12. 2017 (10:51 AM)
June 20, 2017
No parent should ever give in to the demands of a 7-year-old. But my 7-year-old has been so demanding about having his questions answered, as I recently found out on a 13-hour road trip to Northern Georgia, that I couldn't avoid his inquisition and ignore answering anything that crossed his mind.
Christopher pushes me for information about anything that pops into his mind. I cannot answer all of his questions in a timely fashion while he rapidly fires them at me like hellfire missiles, and he becomes frustrated.
"Tell me, Dad. Why aren't you telling me? Tell me now, why, why!"
Today, he knows he has me captive. At the same time, I drove our rented 2017 Nissan Rouge towards the mountains of Georgia, leaving the flat land of Southern Florida behind us. When you live in a beach environment all your life, a little elevation is good for the soul. Just like in the winter, we chase the cold weather to escape the constant Florida heat. This is the Sunshine State? Hell no. It's more like the Summer State, all-year-round summertime weather.
One hundred miles into the 700-mile trip, Christopher's questions began to come at me with little reason other than wanting to know why we had to drive on asphalt, who created asphalt, and who put it down so the car could drive on it. And don't forget, "where does asphalt come from?"
He questioned me like a defense attorney would a witness for the prosecution who was called by the prosecution to testify against their client. He was relentless like Perry Mason and as quick on his feet as Judge Judy.
"Dad, why is the sky blue? Tell me, Dad."
"Well.."
"Tell me now, why, dad, why?"
"Because blue prism is scattered throughout the sky by air molecules."
"Oh, I don't know what you are saying. Dad."
"Dad, why are we going 75 miles per hour?"
"Well, if I wasn't with the family, I would probably be doing 90."
"That is not nice, Dad. Don't speed."
"Dad, Why do you have tiny hair?"
"Because I have no hair and am grateful for whatever crops up from my head."
We are all traveling almost in a straight line across Florida. The road will slightly turn left and head straight for the Georgia line. We'll ride that angle up through Atlanta and 2 hours further north into White County and the foothills of the mountains by Chattahoochee National Forest. There is no road less traveled on I-75. You could get lost traveling off its path. And there isn't much scenery to take in to cure the boredom from the constant sight of dark green foliage that rises like a wall 40 feet towards the sky. Deep down, I welcomed his questions.
"Tell me why you don't have your foot on the gas pedal?"
"Dad, tell me, tell me now, why can't dogs talk?"
"Dad…
Dad.
Dad.
Tell me…
Tell me now, why, why, Dad…
Why dad.
Dad."
Interacting with him made the time go by quickly; before I knew it, we had arrived in Helen, Georgia. The 13 hours went through our question and answer sessions with brief pauses as he fell asleep. This was good because I was allowed to get lost in my hopes and dreams and question myself about who I was and how I got here. This assessment usually occurs after every one of my birthdays. And my birthday was just the day before we left for this vacation. With Christopher asleep, my better half asleep, and Nico consumed with his phone, I took on the open road alone. All the tell me why questions were being asked to me by my conscience.
I didn't plan well for this trip. I wondered what we would do to fill in the 8 days we would be in the mountains. I decided to play it by ear and let the activities fill in the empty moments as I planned daily activities on the fly. I should have given my youngest son the phone numbers of the activity centers and had him call for me.
"Yes, why do you have zip lining, and what exactly is a zip line? It is like my jacket. I zip up my pants. Is that what we do all day. My daddy couldn't zip up the luggage. Boy, was that a sight to see."
"How old are your horses, and can they hold my dad? He is pretty big, and I feel bad for the horse."
"Why do the inner tubes float on top of the river? Tell me, tell me now."
"Why is it called a four runner when there is a motor, and we drive it rather than run with our legs. I don't know these things. Tell me why."
He could have really helped me out with planning this trip!
I will have to delegate my workload to him more often. I was the only one with a story to tell you, but a hotel guest who had a room to the west of our room left a review about us on the hotel website. I wanted to share with you what he thought about us.
"Next to us (connecting) had boisterous children; after 10:30pm, I yelled through the connecting door, and eventually, they quieted down. The next morning, I complained at the desk, and Adam was very helpful and changed our room. This is not the motel's fault- more the crass, uncaring parents (sic). And for God's sake, someone asked too many questions. Why, why, why… someone gets that kid Google."
Sir, my youngest son, Christopher, would like to respond.
"Why do you think my parents don't care?"
"Why would you yell so loud? My dad does that enough."
"My dad is not insensitive. I have seen him cry."
"My dad cares a lot. Why would you think he doesn't care? Tell me, why, why? Tell me now."
The questions will not stop those 2 kids from having a lifetime worth. I am grateful I can still call my dad and ask him my own questions.
I will never deny my children the search for answers in life. All of us search for a meaning to life's mystery. I just wish I could get answers to my questions! Maybe I will rapid-fire questions just as my son does on our 13-hour car ride home, and I will finally get some answers.
Captain Imperfecto 4 wheeling it at Sunburst Adventures on July 13, 2017 (3:51 PM)
1,073 words
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