[QUOTE=Mangetout]
I make a point of occasionally completely failing to understand questions my kids ask me; for example, yesterday, they came in while I was halfway through watching a TV documentary about the Galapgos Islands; my daughter pointed and asked 'what’s that?"
I replied “It’s a television set”.
The alternative strategy for this particular kind of question is to look not at the object they’re pointing at, but instead look closely at their pointing finger and answer “It’s your finger”.
Keeps them on their toes and I think it has actually helped them to learn to frame unambiguous questions.
[/QUOTE]
We are of one mind on this particular childrearing practice. Some of my exchanges with my daughter have gone like this:
Her: “Daddy, can you put my shoes on for me?”
Me: “I can try, but I don’t think they’ll fit me.”
Her: “No! Put them on me!”
(I place the shoes gently on top of her head)
Her: “Daddy, I’m hungry!”
Me: “And I’m Italy. So nice to meet you.”
Her: “Daddy, how fast can you count to 100?”
Me: “100”
Her: “Yeah, how fast can you count to 100?”
Me: “I just did.”
Her: “Huh?”
Me: “Yup. I counted by hundreds.”
Either she’ll grow up to be a wit, or she’ll hack me to death with a chainsaw on her 13th birthday.
My pride and joy, though, as far as smartass answers, was back when I worked at a university. I often ate my lunch in the cafeteria, and usually paid by check – a privilege extended to faculty and staff members. So one day, when I handed my check to the cashier, she asked me if I was staff. Without even thinking about it, I replied “no, I’m strep.” And off I sauntered.