The "why" game

Any of you who have spent time with young children know all about the why game. A child will ask a question, receive a perfectly appropriate answer for it, then ask, "why?". Every answer will be met with a why until the answerer - usually a parent or older sibling - turns into the Incredible Hulk in rage. Or at least feels like they could.

I play the why game with myself when I'm out of sorts, trying to figure out what's at the root of what I'm feeling. It annoys me no end and I want to throttle my inner four year old, but it works. For example, right now I am really cranky. I want to bark at everyone near me, like the very nice woman seated next to me who has an annoying incoming text tone. Some of the reasons are obvious - I'm in an airport, looking at delayed flights, and I'm already tired - but I travel a great deal and am used to this. It's not the root cause.

So what's going on?

Adult me: I'm cranky. I'm tired.

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: Because I'm trapped in the airport for who knows how long and that lady next to me has the most annoying incoming text sound on the planet.

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: Why does she have that text sound? I don't know. Maybe she likes it.

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: Because she has terrible taste?

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: I don't know, it's likely something to do with her childhood.

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: What do you mean "why?"?

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: Because I want to know. (As you can see, adult me is not much older than four.)

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: Fine. I'm cranky because I'm going to get into Philly later than I was planning and I'm already tired.

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: I didn't sleep well last night.

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: Oh, you know, I was in a hotel room and I never sleep well in hotels. Plus I just don't sleep well.

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: Why don't I sleep well? You know.

(Four year old me is quiet and looks at me with those wise child eyes.)

Adult me: Fine. I haven't slept well since Kevin got sick and certainly not since he died. It's a kind of PTSD thing, I think. I would wake up because he needed help or because I was afraid he had died while I slept and now I still wake up.

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: That's a dumb question.

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: Why is it so bad now? Maybe because we just passed the anniversary of his memorial and next Tuesday is his birthday. And I'm frustrated that my flight is delayed.

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: Because I need to get to New Jersey.

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: Because my father is dying. And I don't know what else to do.

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: I don't know. Why do people we love die? Why is it so hard, why do the people left behind feel so lost? Why am I so sad when most of my life is so good? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.

Four year old me: Why?

Adult me: You're right. Because that's the way of the world and I just want to have a tantrum about it and I'm tired of being the grown-up.

(Four year old me smiles, sucks her thumb and holds out her teddy bear. I think she's a lot smarter than I am.)

That's why I play the why game. Though I still don't know why that lady has such an annoying incoming text tone.