Why Me?

As an attorney I like to ask the questions.  My husband often accuses me of deposing him instead of just asking him about his day.  Personally, I don’t see this as a problem, but I suppose it’s a personal preference.

Over the past 28 months, Erajh and I have made every decision for Greenleigh – clothes, meals, activites, and even some of her friends.  She may like a particular thing instead of another, but never am I questioned about my choices.

Last weekend Greenleigh and I were in the kitchen.  I was mixing a bottle for Hazeline, but Greenleigh wanted my attention at that very minute.  I said, “Hold on honey, I’m busy mixing a bottle for your sister.  Give me one minute.”  She responded with, “V-hy?”  Dumbfounded, I put down the bottle, walked over to her, and asked “What did you say Greenleigh?”  She responded, “V-hy?”  I said, “Are you asking me why I need to mix a bottle for your sister?”  She nodded.  I proceed to explain that the baby is hungry, so she needs to eat;  the bottle is her dinner.  “V-hy?”  I finish mixing the bottle and decide that this isn’t a battle I can win.

Fast forward to yesterday when I picked her up at daycare.  I forgot the snack I normally give her, and it didn’t go over well.  After several desperate pleas for her “nack” I got her in the car.  As we were driving home I explained that I forgot her snack at home.  “V-hy?” she asked.

That’s it – it’s official – the word “why”  (pronounced v-hy, natually) is a permanent fixture in our home.

V-hy me?