Well told. I think this provides a great opportunity for a kid to watch someone find an answer. “I don’t know why that is. Let’s see if we can find out.” And the kid can watch you check reference books or internet sites or even learn how to phrase the question properly so an answer can be found. They’ll mimmick your process.
Our tactic was to acknowledge the “why game.” Why can be a request for information and it can also be a contest of wills. When the kids got into this phase we’d start the day by asking “shall we play the why game toay…how many why’s? three at a time? okey dokey.” Then three whys (for each “incident”) were treated as serious and answered. The fourth why was treated as “naughty” and a chore immediately followed. The chore would not be difficult (dust the table…put away your bunny)–but it broke the cycle. We treated it lightly “Whoooops! you just passed the three-why line…gotta do a chore.”
Anyway, it worked for us. Made it light and funny. And some days we let the number of whys get really high–like ten or twenty–which resulted in lots of giggling. Anything to get it into the funny zone rather than the annoying zone of interaction. With a clearly defined cut-off point.
And a natural point arrived where the kids would say “No, I’m too old for that game. I’ll only ask why now when I really want an answer.”
My parents didn’t know the answers to a lot of the questions I had. They would simply say, “I don’t know. Let’s go get a book that will tell us.” (And that’s actually what led me to the Dope. At age 10, my grandmother presented me with the first Straight Dope book because it contained a lot of the questions she’d heard me ask.)
“I don’t know” was valuable to me for two reasons. Not only did it teach me that my parents were not infallible, but it gave us the chance to learn together and the understanding that education is a life-long process.
One of the saddest things I ever saw was when, as a child, a friend of mine asked her mother a question about why some natural porocess happened and the mother responded: “Why do you care? It just does! Stop asking stupid questions.” She then proceeded to mock my friend’s curiosity as if it was a character flaw. I don’t think it’s surprising that my friend grew up to be a person who had a complete lack of curiosity about the world and only cares about things which directly affect her on a daily basis. (We’re not friends any more-- we’re just too different.)
The fact that he is your grandson is pretty material
- why did you not tell us that earlier ?
What the sprog is doing is trying to get you to talk, the more you talk the less he’ll prompt you.
Talk about anything and he’ll be happy, if you really want to be evil tell him long stories about his father’s/mother’s misdemeanours when they were his age.
Treat him as a small adult
- and maybe get a couple of cracker barrels
Mostly, don’t put yourself out for him, but keep a running commentary going.
Hmm
My son is three, and he likes to ask “What is a …?”
It can be as simple as asking what a certain noun is, and I tell him and he is satisfied. But it might lead to asking what every word is. What are teeth? Teeth are parts of your mouth that help you talk and chew your food. What is chewing food. Chewing is grinding your food up into small bits so your stomach can digest the food better. What is digest…
To a certain extent I know Im encouraging it, but inquisitive is good. And I am pretty good when its something basic or when its anatomical. Its when he gets to what is green, what is colours, that I start to get a bit restless. Usually I say “Its YOU!” and start a tickle fight.
My mom had a good set of dictionaries and a set of encyclopedias, and yes, I had to look it up. Im planning to start that with Littlefoolie soon.
My daughter went through a phase similar to this where she had to know the name of everything and everyone. We’d pass a dog on the highway–“What’s his name, Mama?” See someone across the room, and want to know her name. Even characters in movies and on TV. Nearly drove me bonkers. I did my best to answer every time, but one day I had a hellish time with it.
We were watching Home Alone 2 together. We’d seen it many times before, but this time, we had to play the Name Game. Now, for the most part, it wasn’t difficult, though it was somewhat annoying after the umpteeth time I had to name a character. But then the Pigeon Lady made her appearance, and of course, Charlotte asked what HER name was. Well, I was stumped here, because we’re never actually told the woman’s name. I didn’t know the actress’s real name then, either. So I tried to explain this to her–that the people who made the movie didn’t name her; the character didn’t have one. Somehow, this didn’t compute. Over and over, she asked, each time the lady appeared on screen. Finally it was too much. She asked yet again, and in pure exasperation I huffed out a sarcastic reply. “Bird Poo Annie!” I snapped. This absolutely delighted her. She burst into giggles and gleefully went around repeating it over and over. Even now, as she nears age 12, we still call the woman by that name. She will forever be “Bird Poo Annie” to us! 
Answer a question with a question. When asked “why?”, answer “what?” Its a great word game for 7 year olds.