”How will I explain to a four year old child, that...”

[Llamadragon]

Some things can be hard to explain to children. For this prompt, pick one.

 

[Sager]

Sometimes you can really hard and still not get what you want

 

[Deleted member 5560]

When Carla found Barkley, he was lying sprawled on the couch looking half asleep. She sat down uneasily next to him, reaching out to gentle stroke his head. He turned his head, looking up at her with his sweet, gentle gaze. Barkley was already four years old, but rather than being a loud and rambunctious child, he preferred to be left to quietly do his own thing. She still remembered when she first brought him home, how small he'd been back then. In just the span of a few years, he'd already gotten so much bigger.

"There's something I need to tell you, and I think now you're old enough to deserve to know the truth." She began with an uncomfortable sigh. "The truth is... you're adopted."

Barkley sat up on the couch, not immediately responding. Although he didn't fully understand what she was saying, he could clearly pick up on her anxiousness, and understood that the situation was a serious one. Carla bit her lip, nervously continuing.

"Being adopted means... how do I explain." She was suddenly struck by inspiration, telling him, "It means that you're a bit special. Because it means that I picked you, and you especially, above all others. There was no one else I wanted to be my child more, see?"

Barkley tilted his head, feeling confused.

"It just means I love you, a lot, okay?" Carla reached over and hugged him tightly, burying her face in his fur. Barkley wagged his tail, giving a happy, reassuring "Wuff!" sound, just as Lee walked in.

"Are you... are you doing the whole 'you're adopted' gag to the dog again?" He asked in disbelief.

"It makes him happy!"

"You're so goddamn weird."

 

[HURGMCGURG]

I sighed. "Son, the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow is different depending on whether they are African or European. You see, the African variety of swallows--"

"Why do you know so much about swallows?"

I chuckled. "Well, you have to know these things if you're a dad, you know?"

 

[sage61]

When Carla found Barkley, he was lying sprawled on the couch looking half asleep. She sat down uneasily next to him, reaching out to gentle stroke his head. He turned his head, looking up at her with his sweet, gentle gaze. Barkley was already four years old, but rather than being a loud and rambunctious child, he preferred to be left to quietly do his own thing. She still remembered when she first brought him home, how small he'd been back then. In just the span of a few years, he'd already gotten so much bigger.

"There's something I need to tell you, and I think now you're old enough to deserve to know the truth." She began with an uncomfortable sigh. "The truth is... you're adopted."

Barkley sat up on the couch, not immediately responding. Although he didn't fully understand what she was saying, he could clearly pick up on her anxiousness, and understood that the situation was a serious one. Carla bit her lip, nervously continuing.

"Being adopted means... how do I explain." She was suddenly struck by inspiration, telling him, "It means that you're a bit special. Because it means that I picked you, and you especially, above all others. There was no one else I wanted to be my child more, see?"

Barkley tilted his head, feeling confused.

"It just means I love you, a lot, okay?" Carla reached over and hugged him tightly, burying her face in his fur. Barkley wagged his tail, giving a happy, reassuring "Wuff!" sound, just as Lee walked in.

"Are you... are you doing the whole 'you're adopted' gag to the dog again?" He asked in disbelief.

"It makes him happy!"

"You're so goddamn weird."

This is good. Love it. The plot twist in the end is unexpected.

 

[HURGMCGURG]

"But why isn't it three?" Steven asked, his head slightly tilted to the side as though he was trying to display confusion.

'Why is he so dumb?' Erin lamented.

"Because, and I can't believe I have to explain this again, two is literally designed to be the answer to what one plus one equals. Two means one plus one, just as three means two plus one, and four means three plus one. One plus one equals two because people says it equals two! To say it equals three is to disregard our entire system of counting and ignore the meaning behind the numbers. See here."

Erin took out two pencils from her bag. "I have one pencil in this hand. I have another pencil in my other hand. If I put them both in the same hand, then I have two pencils. I could say that two is actually three, meaning that while the number is the same, I refer to it as three, but it is not the same as saying that the amount of pencils in my hand is equal to the amount normally called three. Mathematics was designed to simulate the real world, and ignoring how it works ruins its ability at simulating reality!" She was panting at the end of her rant, finally removing some of the pent up frustration she had been dealing with for the past ten minutes when this question had been repeatedly posed to her.

"Okay. So you can answer that question." Steven grinned maliciously at Erin in the rearview mirror and she got a shiver. "So, since you're so good at explaining things, would you care to explain why I got a call from your teacher today about three girls fighting each other over two toys? I would love to hear an in depth analysis on that topic."

Erin cowered in the back seat after hearing her father and decided it was best not to answer at the moment.

Steven sighed. 'How do I explain to my genius daughter that it is not alright to bite someone because you can't play with a Barbie doll?'

---

I'm going to laugh so hard if I find a post on here about someone trying to explain memes.

 

[S.D.Mills]

I'm going to laugh so hard if I find a post on here about someone trying to explain memes.

Just tell them memes are like if you put a candy bar inside a different candy bar wrapper and gave it to your friend as a joke.

 

[Alverost]

Just tell them memes are like if you put a candy bar inside a different candy bar wrapper and gave it to your friend as a joke.

I will be waiting for your child to become the memelord.

 

[DaoFox]

"But why isn't it three?" Steven asked, his head slightly tilted to the side as though he was trying to display confusion.

'Why is he so dumb?' Erin lamented.

"Because, and I can't believe I have to explain this again, two is literally designed to be the answer to what one plus one equals. Two means one plus one, just as three means two plus one, and four means three plus one. One plus one equals two because people says it equals two! To say it equals three is to disregard our entire system of counting and ignore the meaning behind the numbers. See here."

Erin took out two pencils from her bag. "I have one pencil in this hand. I have another pencil in my other hand. If I put them both in the same hand, then I have two pencils. I could say that two is actually three, meaning that while the number is the same, I refer to it as three, but it is not the same as saying that the amount of pencils in my hand is equal to the amount normally called three. Mathematics was designed to simulate the real world, and ignoring how it works ruins its ability at simulating reality!" She was panting at the end of her rant, finally removing some of the pent up frustration she had been dealing with for the past ten minutes when this question had been repeatedly posed to her.

"Okay. So you can answer that question." Steven grinned maliciously at Erin in the rearview mirror and she got a shiver. "So, since you're so good at explaining things, would you care to explain why I got a call from your teacher today about three girls each other over two toys? I would love to hear an in depth analysis on that topic."

Erin cowered in the back seat after hearing her father and decided it was best not to answer at the moment.

Steven sighed. 'How do I explain to my genius daughter that it is not alright to bite someone because you can't play with a Barbie doll?'

---

I'm going to laugh so hard if I find a post on here about someone trying to explain memes.

a mathematician once made a proof using formulae to prove that 1 plus 1 will forever and always equal 2. because god forbid there are times where 1 plus 1 isn't 2 and thus all of modern engineering could come crashing down around us.

 

[Jemini]

I'm going to laugh so hard if I find a post on here about someone trying to explain memes.

Challenge accepted, and I will even do it in play-write format just to one-up things.

---

Tyler: "Hey Jeff! Check this out! I just found this awesome meme!"

Jeff: "Ha! Well, that's a little inappropriate."

Tommy: "What's a meme? What are you talking about?"

Tyler: "Ehh... a meme is... Well..."

Jeff: "Oh great, you got him started."

Tommy: "Let me see!"

Jeff: "No, you can't see that."

Tommy: "Why not?"

Jeff: "Because it's not something little kids like you should be seeing."

Tommy: "Is it because it's a meme?"

Jeff: "No, it's not bad to see memes, it's just that this one is not good for kids to see."

Tommy: "What IS a meme though?"

Jeff: "Well, it's like something that a lot of other people tell each other and spread it around. Sometimes on the internet, it can also be a picture that everyone is sending to everyone else."

Tyler: "Yeah, it's just a funny picture."

Tommy: "Then can I see the picture you were looking at?"

Tyler & Jeff: "NO!!"

Tommy: "But why?"

Tyler: "Your dad already told you why not."

Tommy: "Why?"

Tyler: "Because kids shouldn't be seeing something like this."

Tommy: "Why?"

Jeff: "Dude, stop, he's just messing with you now."

 

[S.D.Mills]

I will even do it in play-write format just to one-up things.

Why not go all the way and write a screenplay?

 

[Jemini]

Why not go all the way and write a screenplay?

Because then I would actually have to mess with formatting, and I don't want to mess with formatting.

 

[S.D.Mills]

I know what you mean. Scribble Hub's editor does not play well with unique formatting. It's kind of frustrating since my writing style tends to be unconventional. But if you use an actual screenplay editor like Final Draft, it's insanely easy to use.

 

[Llamadragon]

My brother called from the neighboring village and cried that they were coming to our part of the county. He was hiding in the attic of his house and knew there was no longer an escape route for him, but since they came from the south, there should’ve still been another ten minutes until they made it to us. I scrambled to end the last conversation I would ever have with the older sibling who had raised me in our fathers absence, ran to my house for my son, and ran. People around me, who had received the news in similar ways, did the same, and the news spread like wildfire, people weeping as they left all those things, and all those people, they couldn’t take with them. I saw my neighbor wail in agony as he handed a gun and a single bullet to his grandmother who couldn’t walk anymore. The old woman and her family had always been good to me.
We knew the mountain roads are narrow and easily blocked, easily ambushed. We didn’t dare take the cars. So we ran into the mountains and left the paths. There were gunshots echoing between the cliffs behind us, but I can’t remember if they were far away or right behind us. It’s hazy.

We’ve been out here for a week. Most of our belongings were burned with our homes, but Some people managed to sneak back during the night and rummage for tents and supplies among the ruins. Those supplies won’t last us until the next town, but we have to try.
It’s been hard on us in countless ways and we don’t have time to grieve. But as a mother, the hardest thing for me has been how my son has taken it. He’s a good, obedient kid, a little too obedient since that day. But he keeps asking when we’ll go home. How do I explain to a four year old child what they’ll do to us if they find us?

 

[gaylolis]

"Dad, how are babies made?"

"Clays, for example. We can make, clay babies."

"Am I made from clay?"

"You're not."

"What am I made, then?"

"My daughter, you are not made, but born from me and your mother's love. Learn the difference. One is an object, the other is living."

"I don't get it."

"You don't need to. Just know that we love you."

"But Dad, why only moms and dads can have children of their own? What can't dads and dads, moms and moms, if they love each other?"

"It's not that they can't. It's just not yet the time. Look, my daughter. It's only been few years since they accepted same-sex marriage. The thing you should know--these sort of things move step by step."

"So one day, as long people love each other, they can have babies?"

"Yes." the Father chuckled, "One day."

 

[DalangTala]

Candy

"Mom, I want that candy!" my daughter pointed at something chocolate flavored displayed on the counter. When I saw it, I immediately knew I am in a dire situation.

"You can't have that, Emily."

Emily stomped her feet, "Why not?"

Her little face wore a frown. Oh, look at her cute pout.

"Not yet," I flicked her forehead.

I was saving that condom talk for high school. Should I move it earlier? But, I'm sure as heck that I won't give her that talk this early.

 

[DalangTala]

"Dad, how are babies made?"

"Clays, for example. We can make, clay babies."

"Am I made from clay?"

"You're not."

"What am I made, then?"

"My daughter, you are not made, but born from me and your mother's love. Learn the difference. One is an object, the other is living."

"I don't get it."

"You don't need to. Just know that we love you."

"But Dad, why only moms and dads can have children of their own? What can't dads and dads, moms and moms, if they love each other?"

"It's not that they can't. It's just not yet the time. Look, my daughter. It's only been few years since they accepted same-sex marriage. The thing you should know--these sort of things move step by step."

"So one day, as long people love each other, they can have babies?"

"Yes." the Father chuckled, "One day."

Kindergarten me asked my mother the same thing. She answered me with silence so I gotta guess.

"Mama, do babies come from prayers?"

Putting hands together and a magical light goes through the mother's womb. At least, in my imagination that's the process.

She answered, "Yes, baby."

I believed that for many years.