It’s not that I don’t like talking to my daughter. She is bright and funny, charming, interesting, and compassionate. I love that her mind is busy working and learning about the world and she always wants to know more. Sometimes, though, I avoid starting a conversation with her because I know where we will end up – “Why?” But why is the dog with black spots called a dalmation? Why is it called spaghetti? Why do some people don’t use their turn signals? Why was it Brian’s tub when he was a baby? I can’t just say “because” to everything because that would be rude. Sometimes I end the conversation by starting blankly off into space. She thinks I’m ignoring her but actually my brain has completely shut down from wear and tear and I’ll be back after it reboots.