It’s rumored on the Internet that the average four-year-old asks 437 questions per day. I have a four-year-old, and that number seemed low to me, so I decided to count for myself. The other day as we pulled out of the garage, I took note of the time and started counting.
Why do pigs eat slop?
How does coldness turn water into ice?
Can we get an iguana?
Does heaven have air?
Do harpoon makers make small harpoons for kids?
What are those red things on top of chickens’ heads and under their chins for?
Why does the word carpet have a car and a pet in it?
Are there bilge ducks, too, or just bilge rats?
Can God see inside and outside buildings at the same time?
How do T. Rex’s tails help them balance?
Thirteen minutes and 27 questions later we had arrived at our destination. I’ll let you do the math on that one, but it’s probably safe to say that at that, yes, he probably asks 437 questions a day.
And he expects an answer—a satisfying one—to each one. He relentlessly hounds whomever he is questioning until one is delivered. “Well, can you find out? I need to know! Can we ask an expert?”
This little experiment made me wonder: Do adults have as many questions as four-year-olds? For the rest of the day I was keenly aware of my own questions—mostly unvoiced, but questions nonetheless.
Where did I put the field trip permission slip?
Why can I remember the lyrics to the songs from my fourth-grade musical (“It isn’t hot in the furnace, man, that furnace is cool, cool, cool!”) but not where I put the field trip permission slip?
Why don’t Honest Kids drink pouches have a hole for the straw?
Whose turn is it to set the table?
Did the words “Please take your sock off the toilet flusher” really just leave my mouth?
What is a more helpful response to someone’s crisis than “Let me know if I can do anything”?
How can I best help my kids learn gratitude?
Where is the unceasing public outrage for human trafficking?
Why does mercy triumphing over judgment look like? And why does mercy too often unsettle us more than judgment does?
Evidently I have just as many questions as my four-year-old. The difference: he pursues answers even to the trivial ones, and I too seldom pursue answers even to the non-trivial ones. They are transitory, too quickly fading away as I turn my attention to less important matters.
That’s not good.
What important questions do you have?
Let’s go find some answers.