Three Questions

“16th of June 9:05, door bell rings, man at the door says if I want to stay alive a bit longer, there`s three things I need you to know…three!” U2

So this morning I woke up before the sun and had to pee really badly. It must have been that root beer from the night before. I stumbled out of my side of the bed and took three steps before I stopped short, stifling a scream. Our four-year old daughter was standing in the doorway, her arms long enough to touch both door frames. I did my best to not wake up my wife, so I whispered, “Audrey, god DAMN what are you doing up?”

“Is it morning, Daddy?”

I think I noticed the bedside clock saying 7:14 am a second ago.

“Uh, sure. Almost.”

“It’s still dark, Daddy.”

“Well, that’s winter for you, but please Audrey: Daddy has to use to bathroom.”

“You have to answer a question first.”

“What? Oh, all right. Is this some kind of game? What’s the question?”

“Who’s the tallest person in the family?”

That’s easy. “Me, I’m the tallest, right? Can I pass?”

“No Daddy. Not OUR family. Another family.”

Well good god DAMN what am I supposed to do now? I suppose I could climb right over her, but I blurted out the name of the first tallest person I could think of.

“Steve! Is it Steve?”

Audrey beamed. “Yes, Daddy. It was Steve.”

I pushed past her but she set up another roadblock in the hallway.

“Next question. How many days is Christmas?”

“How many days until Christmas?” I clarified?

“No, How many days IS Christmas?”

“Uh, one?”

“Two!”

Whatever, I don’t know what she’s talking about. It’s either one day, or maybe you could get all medieval and say it’s 12 days, or maybe you could go philisopical and say “Christmas is in our hearts every day of the year” or some fucking shit like that, but all I needed to do was pee and I didn’t want to argue. I pushed past her and headed to the bathroom. Sweet, sweet relief! I’m coming for you!

Damn, four year olds can move fast, because before I knew it, the third (and please God last) checkpoint was set up right at the bathroom door. I was almost in tears. Morning pees are the worst.

“How many fingers does a lion have?”

“Oh, come ON.”

“How many fingers?”

“You mean on one paw, or in total?”

She looked at me like I was simple. “Total, Daddy.”

How the fuck should I know? Do I look like a zoologist? I thought about “The Lion King”. How many fingers (or toes, or claws, or whatevers) did Simba have? Three on each foot? Four? Did they have five, like humans? I decided I needed to go big or go home.

“Twenty!”

Audrey just shook her head sadly and said, “Eight” but mercifully she stepped aside and let me in to have a glorious (and well-earned I might add) pee.

As I was peeing, I was reminded of this little scene from “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” and I thought I’d stick it here until someone makes me take it down. I haven’t thought of this movie in a long long time. Monty Python in general and this movie in particular dominated much of my Jr High mindspace, but when was the last time I actually sat down and watched any of it? I’d imagine I’ve got a few years before I could introduce Audrey to all the fun and sillyness. And what about “The Kids in the Hall”? Will it still be funny ten years from now? I’m thinking yes.

When I was done, I was thinking a bit more about that last question. There’s no way a lion has eight fingers total. I would go so far as to say that technically I don’t think lions even have fingers. At best, they’ve got toes, or maybe weird little foot pads.

Because I am slightly off, I had to research this when I got to work. I checked out this site, which seems to have a lot of good information on lions (paw pads! In your face, Audrey) but doesn’t actually say how many of them are there.

So I know this isn’t really scientific at all, but I did a Google Image search on Simba and the vast majority of images make it look like he’s got 4 toes per paw, but then I saw this pic, and correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you can see a wee little thumb on his left paw, making it five per paw, multiplied by four equals…..twenty! (Which was my initial guess, even in my pee-addled state.)

I count five!

So I actually got two out of three right, assuming that we give Audrey a pass on the second question about the number of days of Christmas. Maybe she was including Boxing Day? So if I were playing “Wait, Wait! Don’t Tell Me!” I could be expecting Carl Kasell’s voice on my answering machine any minute now. Not a bad way to start the day.

How many fingers does Carl Kasell have?