Questions

Inexplicably, every day I watch her, me and the Terror have the same conversation… and for the life of me I know not what horrors I committed in my past life to condemn me to such a fate...
 

Terror: Can I check the mail?
Me: No.

Terror: Why?
Me: The mail runs at 4.

Terror: Oh… What time is it?
Me: It’s not even 11 yet.

Terror: What time is it?
Me: It’s almost 11.

Terror: Oh… When does the mail run?
Me: 4.

Terror: What time is it?
Me: Almost 11.

Terror: What time does the mail run?
Me: … 4...


Don’t ask me why we have this conversation everyday, I think I've already established that the Terror's grasp on language isn't exactly the best; trust me, if it wasn't for that confused and curious look on her face, I'd think she was doing with just to mess with me, or, you know, that she does it in a weird effort to convince me I’m stuck in a horrifying reenactment of Groundhog Day… By the way, this isn’t the only time we have this conversation either, or it wouldn't annoy me the way that it does, we have this conversation at least once an hour, sometimes twice… Sometimes even more if she's not interested in something else. Every. Single. Day. Of course, when it comes time for her to go check the mail, we have this conversation:

Terror: Can I go check the mail?
Me: Yeah, it’s 4 now.
Terror: K!
Me: Wait! You’re still not wearing pants, go put on some pants.

And why is she not wearing pants at 4 in the afternoon? Because every time I tell her to put pants on she either straight up refuses me or she stares at me with that blank and sort of vaguely confused look she gets on her face when she has no idea what's going on; also, sometimes she just doesn’t have pants because the laundry hasn’t been washed in forever and a day. In the end, I have to yell at her a couple of times before anything gets done.

Me: Hey! I said you can’t go out unless you’re wearing pants!

Me: Don’t look at me like that, go put pants on.

Me: Go put pants on, now.

And after she finally puts pants on… we have the same conversation, but with shoes…


… Sometimes… there isn’t mail… and we have this conversation…

Terror: Can I go check the mail?
Me: You already checked the mail.

Terror: There wasn’t any mail.
Me: I know, sometimes there isn’t any mail.

Terror: But you said the mail came.
Me: Yeah, the mail-man came by, but there wasn’t any mail.

Terror: Can I go check the mail?
Me: *silently wondering what I did to deserve this...


… Lather, rinse, repeat…

Oh, and this is a conversation that gets repeated throughout the night, as often as she wishes, until I go home… And one time… I lost my temper with her over it… and this is what happened.

Terror: Can I go check the mail?
Me: It’s 8’o clock.

Terror: Can I go check the mail?
Me: No, it's dark outside.

Terror: Can I go check the mail?
Me: No, you're not wearing pants or shoes.

Terror: Can I go check the-
Me: No.



And that went on for about two minutes, me inserting a no quickly every time she opened her mouth… Eventually, this happened:

So I just left her until she felt civil enough to come out, by the way, this is what happened the same day she assaulted me with questions about her coloring book… So when I got home… I ended up yelling at my Hedgehog.

 … Yeah, and then he got angry, too… Anger, it spreads, really fast…