Dad's know the answer!

Daniel had a barrage of questions for me again this morning. I know that I should know some of the answers being an adult but sometimes you just don’t.

“Why’s it called a Cello dad? Why do you pronounce it CH instead of CEE? What language is that? Is It Italian? Is it Latin? Why is it Latin if it’s Italian? Why is Orange Jam called Marmalade?” All within the space of 20 seconds.

I stood there waiting for him to take a breath before launching into my response, “It’s what the inventor called it, because it’s a foreign word, I don’t know what country it’s from, I don’t know, I don’t know, it’s an old language that the Romans used to speak, I’m not sure – wasn’t Queen Victoria involved?” As you would expect my answers only created a hundred more questions instead of resolving anything.

It is a lovely thing how kids want to know everything and assume their parents know the answer if a little tiring at times. I was told off by Jo the other day at tea when Daniel had yet again let fly with 4 different questions in the same sentence and my answer had been “Why do you ask so many questions?” Jo immediately pointed to the merit certificate that Daniel had so recently brought home with his held proudly aloft (quite rightly). The certificate reads “For asking thoughtful and probing questions in science”.

Thoroughly reprimanded for trying to quash my son’s natural inquisitiveness I quietly mumbled the answers as best that I could.

I know where he get’s it from though. Last month when I was at Death’s door with Swine / Man Flu Jo came in one night in a huff. “The outside light is not coming on anymore when I walk up the drive…” Which was news to me as I’d not been out at night for well over a week but within a single heartbeat she continued “…what’s wrong with it? Is it broken? Or is it the bulb? Why isn’t it working?” I flopped back into my sofa duvet den and ignored it as my head was in no place for riddles like that.

I suppose I should be flattered that my wife is so impressed by my Manly prowess at DIY that I can diagnose a duff bulb in a security light 20 milliseconds after being informed of an issue and without so much as taking the cover off and shaking my head whilst scratching my chin.

So I live in a house full of people that think I am a font of knowledge which is very nice but a lot of pressure especially as I get a special table on my own and don’t have to pay if I try and enter the pub quiz locally. They even give me a special big pencil to use so I must be intellygente intallerg clever.