There Are No Stupid Questions. Just Stupid Answers.

My six year old grandson's main occupation is asking questions. All. Day. Long.

However, he does not ask ordinary, childish questions.

Here's an example (from what I can remember. Often his questions cause my brain to temporarily stop functioning.)

Can an ax go through chain mail? Can a mace?

What is a squire?

What army attacked Egypt? 

How does a muscle work?

How do you make chain mail? Is chain mail stronger than armor?

Is Kipling still alive?  Did my parents know him?

What does "drama" mean?  

uh......{blink} {blink} Go ahead. Try to define the word "drama" for a six year old. Here's how I did it:

Drama is the opposite of comedy. If drama goes unchecked it can lead to tragedy.

I know. Brilliant. That's why I'm a grandma.

Today was the day I was scheduled to fly home after snuggling a newborn for two weeks. Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men....

So I have a three day extension but we need to keep petitioning heaven for an end to this agonizing wait.