Confusion

My children are little balls of confusion.  At least they seem that way to me.

Today they were grilling me about the intricacies of space travel.  No, they weren’t asking me question I could answer from years of watching scifi movies and television shows.  They wanted honest answers and equations and details.  Oh, the level of detail they wanted was staggering.  I mostly responded by saying, “Let’s look that up when we get home,” because of course, we were in the car.

On the one hand, I’m glad they considered me a source of useful information.  On the other hand, I don’t understand why they thought I would have the level of information as a NASA employee would.

I also don’t understand why they think I can’t help them write an essay or cite sources.  Or why they don’t think I understand how to spell tricky words or how quotations work.

This confuses me very greatly.

Why do they think I can answer questions that probably only people with special government clearance can answer (did I mention the amount of detail they sought?), but they don’t think I can answer their reading and writing questions, as if reading and writing weren’t what I do for a living.

I know I’ve lamented about just this sort of thing before, but sadly, I continue to not get it.

I’m so confused.

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