Question of the Day

I am used to many questions in my house. They come at me at all hours of the day and night, in a near constant barrage of queries.

"Where are the bath towels?" "What's for dinner?" "Do I have to take a shower tonight?" "Have you seen my voltmeter?" (Seriously...I have found more tools for M than I can count. And they are his tools. I can honestly say I have never needed to use a voltmeter on my own. But I can tell you where it is.) "Can I have ranch on my salad?" "How many shrubs should we put here? And here? And over there?" "Is today a dress down day?" "What time is her piano lesson again?" "Did you see the cat puke over there?" "Should we clean up dinner now, or later?" "Does this shirt go with these pants?" "What tie should I wear?" "Can you review this email?" "Is Jamie spelled J-A-M-I-E?" (Just got that one as I'm typing this. No shit.) "Is there clean laundry somewhere?" "Do you like these flip-flops? How about these? What about these?" "Have you checked the weather?" "Have you seen my chapstick/keys/nail clipper/wallet/phone/iPad/headphones/sunglasses?"

I can usually handle them fairly well, but sometimes it just gets to be overwhelming. Like when M asks me the same question three or four times because he doesn't like my answer. Or when both my husband and my daughter feel it necessary to pelt me with multiple questions at the same time. Then my brain goes into overload and I freak out and start screaming "One at a time! One at a time!" and my family looks at me like I have six heads because why on earth can't I answer 12 questions at one time? If I use each of my six heads that's only two questions per head and that's reasonable, right?

I'm like a freakin' encyclopedia in our house. I'm expected to know everything. (By the way, I realize that using the term "encyclopedia" means I'm old, but I couldn't bring myself to reference Wikipedia because more shit is wrong than right on that site and I am never, ever wrong. Or hardly ever. Mostly. Anyway, the Encyclopedia Brittanica was rock solid, fact-checked and verified, so that's me. Not some Wiki shithead. Wikipedia would tell you that the voltmeter is in the BAS when, in fact, it's in the storage room of the garage, on the first shelves to the right, second shelf from the top, about 3/4 of the way back on the right side. F*cking Wikipedia.) This year, of the very first things I asked for on Mother's Day was "No questions!" I wanted, more than anything, to not have to know anything/everything for an entire day. It didn't last, but I thought it was a valid request and one that I may ressurect on other special days, like my birthday and Memorial Day and days that end in "y."

Tonight, though, I got a question that perfectly sums up my existence as Master Answerer in this house:

"Does asparagus make you fart?"

My response should have been something witty, the likes of which Bones from The Original Star Trek would say: "I'm a writer not a doctor."

But instead I went for the classy and typical Amy response: "How the f*ck should I know? Google it, dammit."

And then I laughed and thought, "Oh yeah. This is so blog-worthy."

Given the frequency and oddity of the questions I am asked, I may start cataloging them for sharing here at Latent Images. This would serve two purposes: laughter for myself and my readers, and incentive for M to figure out shit on his own so he doesn't have to ask me so many damn questions.