Conversations in the Car

Julia had questions about all sorts of topics while she rode around in the car this afternoon.

JULIA: Mom?  When do you go to MIDDLE SCHOOL?
ME: Well, fifth grade is the last grade in elementary school.  Usually 6th grade is the start of middle school, but in our town, there's a separate 6th grade school you go to first, THEN you go to middle school for 7th and 8th grade.
JULIA: (thoughtful) But...WHY is it called MIDDLE school?
ME: Probably because it's in the middle in between elementary school and high school.
JULIA: Oh!  Yeah!  (thinking quietly) Mama?  Is graduate school the HARDEST school because it's the LAST?
ME: Well, yeah, it probably is the hardest in a lot of ways.
JULIA: But Mom?  Does not EVERYBODY go to college?
ME: No.  Not everybody goes to college, and not everybody goes to graduate school.  A lot of people choose to go to college, because it's usually easier to get a job in certain fields if you have a college degree.  In college you learn the details of whatever subject you major in, which is usually the field you want to get a job in.
JULIA: And then what do you do in graduate school?  Just learn more HARDER things?
ME: Well, in graduate school you really specialize ONLY in the thing you want to have a job in.  So, for instance, in college, I majored in music, so I took LOTS of music classes, but I also got to take classes in other subjects like French and English.  In graduate school, I only took music classes.
JULIA: (thoughtful for a few moments)  But Mama?  Why in college did you have to take ENGLISH, if, like, people from CONNATICUT don't, like, speak in other languages?

On an earlier car ride, perhaps a week or two ago, I was trying to explain to Julia what I will have to be doing when I show up for jury duty in February.  In an attempt to convey what exactly a trial means and what the job of a jury entails, I made up a scenario: "Okay, say there was a family who hired a man to paint their house.  Then after the job was done, they realized a lot of their expensive jewelry was missing from their house.  They might go to the police and say they think the house painter stole jewelry from them.  If the man got arrested and he had to go to trial, there would be a judge and a jury who would listen to two different lawyers presenting evidence.  The jury would have to listen to all the different evidence and decide whether they think the man is GUILTY, or NOT GUILTY, meaning whether he DID steal the jewelry, or he DIDN'T."

Apparently, this whole topic has remained on her mind, leading to the unexpected reprise of this subject material while driving in the car today.

JULIA: Mommy?  Remember when you were telling me all about the mystery that you have to solve, when you have to go to that place, with the man who was painting houses and he STOLE things from inside the house?
ME: (blanking) Uh?  Hmm.  (suddenly realizing she was talking about jury duty.)  Yes.  I do.
JULIA: Well, let me get this straight.  Wouldn't NOT GUILTY really mean that he DID steal the jewelry?
ME: No.  Guilty would mean he stole it.  He would be found GUILTY of committing the crime.
JULIA: (pondering this.)  But...wouldn't, like, robbers and thieves NOT feel guilty about stealing things because they really, just, like, WANT the money?
ME: Well, they might or might not feel guilty about stealing, but in this case, guilty is not about how you FEEL, it's about whether you actually ARE guilty of the crime.
JULIA: (still mulling this over)  But...wouldn't a thief, like, NOT be guilty about stealing something, because why would he do it if he was GUILTY?

After several more attempted explanations, we were at the same impasse.  Perhaps her confusion on the subject will be to her benefit someday in excusing her from her required future jury duty. 

Madeleine did not have long and involved questions for me today, but I certainly had questions for her, after hearing her blood-curdling screams while playing with the Little People house this afternoon.  It turns out that it was actually the naked Barbie dolls screaming, because they saw a giant monster spider.  Here, she explains, after first reading some "constructions" on the play ice cream box:



And on a final Madeleine note, this evening, she took strong objection to Ethan's reading of the book "Good Night Beach" with a faux Spanish accent.  "Daddy!" she cried in exasperation.  "Can you read it NOT in sign language?!?"

With that, I'm going to bid you good-night in sign language: "Buenes noches, amigos!"