Question master

Back when I was in college, we used to play a drinking game called Circle of Death. I seriously have absolutely no idea how we played it or how it was played, I couldn't recreate that game if you paid me to, but I do know that there were two very important roles that had to be played: thumb master and question master. Thumb master was in charge of randomly putting his/her thumb on the table and then when the non-thumb masters saw this, they had to quietly put their thumb on the table and the last one to put their thumb on the table had to take a drink. Question master had to ask a question (and I might be getting my drinking games confused here, but I think it was an 'I never' sort of question), and then if you hadn't done whatever the question master had never done then you drank. Or maybe it was if you had done what they had never done. I just don't understand why my memory of a drinking game I played in college would be so fuzzy? It makes no sense! And mom and dad if you are reading this, this is all just to add drama and street cred to my blog and 'I never' participated in binge drinking in college.

(We also used to play this game that truly makes my stomach turn now, I of course can't remember the specifics but I think there was a quarter, and a pitcher of beer that everyone drank out of. Just even thinking about drinking anything that a coin has been in now makes me want to scrub my tongue with bleach. Man I'm glad I wasn't an old lady in college.)

I really had a lot of fun in college.

God I miss college.

Anyway, back to reality, where I fantasize about binge drinking but then immediately start worrying about the amount of calories that would be (I REALLY should have cared more about this in college by the way- why wasn't My Fitness Pal around in the early 00's?), my life is ruled by two question masters. There is this sign at the Magic House that says how many times a typical four-year-old asks a question (again, a fuzzy memory as I am most often drunk at the Magic House), but I do remember that it is a shit load. And I remember seeing this when the kids were little and thinking 'Oh, but all the things they will be learning, and I'll get to explain, it will be so fun!' but no one tells you the truth about the hideous constant-question phase. The truth is, most of the questions are so ridiculously stupid and do not need to be asked under any circumstance, that for a split second you will be 100% sure that your kid must have sprouted some wonderful, sarcastic sense of humor and not just be a complete dumbass. Not that I'm calling my kids a dumbass in any way, I'm talking about your kids. Although there are some times (every day all day) where I seriously have to ask myself if H and P have had some kind of traumatic brain injury in the last 24 hours that I was not aware of.

Here is a very small sample (.001%) of the questions I have gotten from my children in the last 48 hours: (Very rarely do I respond with more than an eye roll or a silent prayer for strength/a bus to hit my car, but only the front part of the car so the children are not injured and I'm only forced into a coma for a good 30 day nap or so, but if I did respond, it is in bold):

While carrying a feverish, crying Harry across the parking lot to the doctor's office: Can we go to the playground after this?

Opening the door of the office and physically walking into the doctor's office: Is this the playground?

While carrying a feverish, crying Harry OUT of the doctor's office and back to the car: Are we going to the playground now?

At the stop sign at the end of my street on our way to the YMCA: Is this our home?

At the stoplight that faces my QT where we went on opening day for milkshakes (this question has been asked and answered every day since that fateful day): Is that the gas station we went to and got milkshakes?

In the parking garage of the Galleria, after I said 'We are going to park in the parking garage because it is so hot today': Is this the parking garage?

Walking through the mall: Is this the mall?

Sitting at a stoplight after pulling out of the mall parking lot: Are we home now?

Driving to Aldi to buy groceries including stuff for a smoothie that Penny has been begging for: Are you making my smoothie now? 

Carrying two grocery bags with smoothie ingredients, a watermelon and the mail in my arms: Did you make my smoothie yet?

Taking a gallon of milk out of the bag and putting it in the refrigerator: Is that my smoothie?

Putting dinner on Harry's plate: What are you doing?  Putting dinner on your plate. Can I have a snack?

Blowing my nose: What are you doing?

Going pee: What are you doing?

Putting peanut butter on a piece of bread: What are you doing?

Slamming tequila shots: What are you doing?

And on, and on, and on, and on. It's a whole new Circle of Death. Except now it is not the death of treasured college memories, but the death of my sanity. I am seriously going to be full-on insane by the time they leave this stage. You've all been warned.