Fred’s 11 today. He's at an inquisitive stage. The other day, for example, he asked me if zebras are white with black stripes or black with white stripes. I remember when I was going through that phase. If Dad didn't know the answer, he'd say "Ask your Uncle Nigel." I never did ask Uncle Nigel - I found him rather scary - but grew up thinking he must be the font of all wisdom, the man who knew the stuff even Dad didn't know.
So Fred's also doing that irritating game where he says "Why?" and I answer and he says "Why?" and so on ad intinitum. I got bored of this, so I decided to use it as an inquiry, and just think about actually coming up with answers. I mean, I'm supposed to be so keen on discovering stuff and not shying away from asking questions after all.
He soon smelled a rat though, and quickly changed the subject to something less educational. Oh well, we soldier on.
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