How to Win “The Why Game”

My toddler, MJ, had begun asking “Why?” in earnest. The first time, I wrote, “MJ asks ‘why’ ” on a sticky note to be entered into his baby book later. I thought it was cute at the time. Soon, it became like a smoke detector that needs a battery changed or a toilet that needs its handle jiggled. I just didn’t have all the answers at first. Sometimes I was even speechless.

Here are some of the conversations we had:

Mommy: “MJ, honey, don’t step in that puddle, please.”

MJ: “Why, Mama?”

Mommy: “Because it’s wet, love.”

MJ: “Why?”

Mommy: “Because it’s water.”

MJ: “Why?”

Mommy: “Because it’s a puddle. Puddles are made of water — so please don’t step in it.”

MJ: “Okay, Mommy.” (And dances a little jig around the puddle, tempting fate, ultimately gets wet and wails, “Mommmmmmeeeeee! Wet!”

MJ: “Look, mommy. Look at ninger.”

Mommy: “OooooOOOh! Is that a boogie, MJ?”

MJ: “Yes! Boogie!”

Mommy: “Can you go get a tissue, please?”

MJ: “Why?”

Mommy: “To wipe your boogie on.”

MJ: “Why, Mommy?”

Mommy: “Because that’s what we do with boogies, honey, and then we throw them away.”

MJ: “Why?”

MJ: “Where’s my juice?”

Mommy: “Right here on the table, honey, where you left it.”

MJ: “Why?”

Mommy: “I don’t know, love. You put it there.”

MJ: “Why?”

Mommy: “I smell poop. Did someone poop?”

MJ: “Baby poopoo.” (So I checked).

Baby Chase: “Aaaaaaaaghhhhhhhhhhhhh! Mamamama! Hahahaha!”

Mommy: “No baby poopoo.”

MJ: “MJ poopoo.”

Mommy: “Oh, okay, honey, let’s change your pants.”

MJ: “Why? Mommy?”

Mommy: “Because there’s poop in them.”

MJ: “Why?”

Mommy: “Because you made poopoo.”

MJ: “NooOOOoooooo. I no poopoo! Baby poop. MJ’s pants.”

Mommy: “MJ, honey, no…we don’t draw on the table.”

MJ: “Why, mommy?”

Mommy: “Because…we just don’t.”

MJ: “But it’s pretty.”

Mommy: “Well, yes, but…”

MJ: “Big hug. I love you.”

Mommy: “I love you, too, honey. But we still don’t draw on the table.”

MJ: “Ha ha. Funny!”

Mommy: “No, love, it’s not funny!”

I tried to keep the panic out of my voice; I was already wondering how to get the marker off the table before Daddy saw it.

MJ: “Why?”

Mommy: “MJ, please use your library voice — Baby Chase is sleeping.”

MJ: “Why?”

Mommy: Why what? Why library voice or why sleeping?

MJ: “WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY?” (shouting)

Baby Chase: “Waaaaaaaaah!”

Mommy: “Oh, MJaaaaaaay!” (Yes, I whined a little.) “Baby Chase was sleeping!”

MJ: “Baby no sleeping!” he argued, not wrong.

Mommy: “Why, MJ?”

MJ: “Why, Mommy?”

MJ: “Where’s my school bus?”

Mommy: “Which school bus?” (Since we had several, he was obsessed with them.).

MJ: “Uhmmmmmmmmmmmm. Debbie’s bus.” (Our neighbor drove a school bus, and often we saw it parked in their driveway, which abutted our driveway since our houses were mirror images of each other).

Mommy: “Well, it’s summertime, and there’s no school in the summer, so there’s no bus.”

MJ: “Why?”

Mommy: “Why what? Why no school?”

MJ: “Yes. Why, Mama?”

Mommy: “Because it’s summer vacation and we don’t have school in the summer.”

MJ: “No school!?” (alarmed).

Mommy: “Okay, right, sorry. You have school (was we referred to daycare), but during the summer it’s…uhm…more like….uhm…camp.”

MJ: “Why?”

Mommy: “Why what?”

MJ: “Why?” I decided to drop the concept of camp; I was sure he didn’t know what that was.

Mommy: “Because it’s summer vacation, when the kids on Debbie’s bus have time off from school.”

MJ: “Why?”

Good question indeed, considering grownups don’t have time off unless they work in the school system or are independently wealthy.

Mommy: “I don’t know, love. I just don’t know,” I sighed.

Mommy: “Yes, you can have chocolate — after you eat your lunch.”

MJ: “Why!” (twinge of whine)

Mommy: “Lunch first, then chocolate.”

MJ: “Why, Mommy!? (small wail)

Mommy: “Because chocolate is not something we eat instead of lunch.”

MJ: “But why!?” (demanding)

Mommy: “Because, it just isn’t.”

MJ: “Why!?” (said like he couldn’t believe I was so stupid)

Mommy: “Because!”

MJ: “WHY!?” (outraged)

Mommy: “Because I said so!!”

I learned that the why game shouldn’t devolve into an argument, and ultimately, I didn’t want to be that authoritarian parent. I already knew that wouldn’t work when my boys became teenagers.

Eventually, I stopped trying to outsmart the “why.”

First, I said, “I don’t know,” which, after so many volleys, wound up being the truth most times. Then one day, I said, “Why do you think?” I realized I didn’t need to come up with answers anymore; I could hear my son’s!

Sometimes they were bizarre, sometimes they were funny, and sometimes I could answer, “Let’s find out!” I got the benefit of seeing into my young son’s mind and engaging in his early, meaningful conversations.

That way, everyone was a winner in “The Why Game.”

This story is adapted from my book, MotherMorphosis, which is currently out of print. The anniversary edition is slated for 2026.

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© 2025 Caroline B. Poser. All rights reserved.