Reason and Kids (Did I Say Those Two Words In The Same Sentence?)

When I was growing up, one of my "guilty pleasures" was reading the Peanuts comic strip every day. It was almost a daily ritual: go to the store, buy the newspaper, turn to the comics page, look for the Peanuts strip, find that I bought the wrong paper, curse, go back to the store, argue with the storekeeper until he will allow me to return the paper I bought for the other local newspaper (which did carry Peanuts), go back home, sit down, open the paper, find the comics section, read the Peanuts strip and then find out that I spent so much time arguing with the storekeeper that I missed my school bus.

One of my favorite characters in the strip was Linus. Linus was clearly the most intelligent, wisest and philosophical member of the group. He was always ready to offer advice (good advice, not the type that Lucy offered for a nickel and overcharged for) and was able to quote an aphorism or quote for almost any occasion. Not too shabby for a five-year old.

I always figured that if I had a kid someday, I'd like him to be somewhat like Linus. Sure, we could do without the crazy blanket hang-up, but otherwise, he was the one - smart, wise and respected by his colleagues. He always struck me as the type who would gladly accept the wisdom of his parent's experiences when they offered him advice about life. That was the kid I wanted.

Man proposes, God disposes. Let me introduce you to Danny, my nine-year old.

Danny, it sometimes seems, has a one-word vocabulary; and that word is "why?" Sometimes I may get some elaboration and get a "but, why?" Typical exchanges around our house go as follows:

Me: Danny, time to do your homework
Danny: But why?

Me: Danny, please don't eat your peas with your hands, use your fork.
Danny: Why?

Me: Danny, don't dump that bucket of red paint over your sister's head?
Danny: Why? (splash)

Me: Danny, it's not safe to run around the house with that thermonuclear device! Put it away!
Danny: But why?

You'd think that after having proven to Danny about a thousand times over that, as parents, we often know what we're talking about, we would have attained some prestige in his eyes and become recognized as, is not experts at life, at least someone whose learned their lesson from their stupid mistakes. Alas, that isn't the case. Allow me to present exhibit A: The chore procrastination. One of Danny's chores is to prepare lunch for himself for school the next day.

The date: Any Wednesday evening.
The time: 7:00 PM
The setting: The family living room - a place occupied by two other siblings doing homework, a parent reading a book (but only getting to read a line at a time because of constant interruptions for homework help, bickering or bleeding), a hamster chewing peacefully in his cage (why can't all my kids be as quiet and well-behaved as the hamster?) and assorted books, papers, snack tables, toys, bric-a-brac, etc. strewn around. And that's on a "clean" day!

Into this peaceful tableau walks Danny, holding an electronic game in his hand. "Danny, m'boy" I say in my best awful imitation Irish accent, "maybe y'should be making y'r lunch fer temarrow?"

"Huh?" is the super-intelligent reply.

"Lunch. Have you made your lunch for tomorrow yet? If you don't you're going to be hungry come lunchtime."

"Yeah. I'll do it in a minute."

It's at this point that I'm reminded that children do not know how to accurately keep track of time. When a child says he'll do homework or a chore in "a minute," he really means that he'll get to it - just as soon as the sun runs out of hydrogen, goes nova, extinguishes all life on earth and crumples up into a ball roughly the size of a barbeque briquette. On the other hand...

Parent: You can have ice cream in "a minute."
Child (without missing a beat) : "OK, a minute's up!"

So, he's already put off his lunch making for a half hour and is looking to put it off longer.

"Danny," I tell him, "you're not staying up late to make tomorrow's lunch. And I know that if you don't have lunch tomorrow you're going to be hungry and miserable. Why don't you make your lunch first, get it out of the way, and then, afterwards, play with your game."

"Why?" There goes another white hair.

"So that you'll have something to eat tomorrow."

"OK, I'll do it in a minute" AARGH!

About an hour later, at bedtime: Me: Danny, bedtime!

Danny: But I didn't make lunch yet!

Me: Too bad. I warned you about it an hour ago. Now you have to go to sleep.

Danny: But why?

Me: Because it's bedtime.

Danny: But why?

Sigh. Can somebody please tell me where I can adopt Linus?