The other day, Connery was sitting on my bed while I was finishing up my morning ablutions. He's totally into the "why" questions these days (to the point of my occasionally resorting to the worst parental response ever to such questions: Why? Because! Because, that's Why!). Usually, though, I try to come up with some kind of logical reason or explanation for the questions. Yesterday's "What is poetry?" was a pretty tough one. I almost had to call in the reinforcements, i.e. my mom the retired English teacher.
Anyway, he was watching me put on a pair of earrings and of course wanted to know why I was putting on earrings. I think I first answered, "Because I like earrings." The next question, naturally, is why I like earrings? Casting about, discarding "Because I am a tool of the patriarchy who finds it necessary to further establish her defined gender role!", I settled on "Because it gives me a polished look."
He accepted that. Now, every morning since, he has wanted to come into my room and help me out with achieving my "polished look". Yesterday I let him pick out some earrings for me, and he wanted to today as well. When he hands me the earrings, he watches me put them on, and then he asks, "Do you have that polished look now?"
Hey, it's a far better outcome than what I would have expected, which was "But why do you want that polished look?"