Why do you insist on having the oven set at 300 degrees (or "three year-o year-o" in your language)? Do you know that no recipe known to man actually calls for anything to cook at 300?
Why does it bother you so much to have the microwave timer counting down the minutes? What type of radar do you have that tells you it is set anyway? How long will it take me to remember that I have to set the timer on the stove instead of the microwave because you cannot reach it? How many dozen cookies have I undercooked because I had no clue how long they had been cooking and was afraid of burning them?
Having just subscribed to XM satellite radio in part because I enjoy being able to see the name of the song and the artist so that I can write it down on a scrap of paper and hope not to lose it just in case some day I may have some time to add some songs to my iPod, why do you insist on having the clock on the display instead of the audio information? What difference does it make to you and how do you see it from the backseat anyway?
Do you watch the clock continuously or is it a coincidence that you often announce the time, precisely on the hour, like the family town crier, "seven year-o year-o." Okay, so maybe I just discovered my answer to the previous question.
Why, after being excited about watching your cousin play basketball in the city tournament, do you want to leave the minute the buzzer sounds? Does the sound actually hurt you?
Why did you cry this morning when I told you that you had presents to give to your teacher and the two class paraprofessionals and then cry again at school as you passed them out?
Why, after four months or walking backward to the bus every single day did you suddenly decide to walk forward?
Today wasn't exactly a trying day, but a confusing one. David and I sometimes have difficulty communicating the most basic wants and needs so I know he cannot answer these questions for me. What I do know—some days I feel like I am full of answers and other days, like today, only questions.
P.S. I sat down while waiting for Andrew's Winter Concert to begin, fully intending to finish writing my annual Christmas letter, but this post is what came spilling out. For those of you on my Christmas card list, I apologize for the delay.