“What did you do at preschool today?” I ask my four-year-old son.
Silence. And then, he yells, “Boobie-chang sweet barbershop!” So much for anything resembling a coherent answer. I will never have any idea what that phrase means.
On other days, I ask that exact same question and I get, “We learned about grasshoppers! Daddy told me that there are grasshoppers that don’t fly!” And we’re off to the races. It’s a barrage of information, but it’s a lucid and informative one.
It can give you whiplash.