When I was around 9 years old, I made my father laugh so heartily that I knew what I said was good.

We lived in Chula Vista, California. Like other suburban families we drove around a lot. It seemed like we were always piling in the car on warm nights and weekends, for burgers or shopping or to the zoo, to the Cuyamacas for a picnic, to friends or (LA) family. There were plenty of opportunities for us to read license plates, billboards, and other signs.

I’d seen the words often. They were always on a big building, across the top or placed vertically on the structure’s edge: JESUS SAVES.

So I finally asked: “What is that, Dad: a bank for Christians?”

I wasn’t the only child who dropped pearls. I’m impelled to record the words of a few others today.

Katie was older than that when she asked her million dollar question, but it would be good at any age. She must have been around 13. “Why,” she pondered one dinner time “don’t they put brake light indicators on the front of cars?” We still don’t know the answer. Just think how helpful it would be: a signal right below the headlights (green, we suggest) that informs any witness when the vehicle is slowing…

Danny wasn’t more than 8 when he asked why the BART police drive cars.

Now there’s a new crop of mini-people in the family. The oldest is only 4 so we know the best questions are yet to come. But already he and his brother are modeling language use for us.

Otto started saying “What the heck?” about six months ago. “What the heck?” It’s more emphatic than WTF, funnier. Lately it has received increased emphasis: “What the double heck?” You can see where it’s going…what the octuple heck?

And Henry has developed the perfect expression of confused despair. He is contending with the twin challenges of learning how to be 2 and transforming from little to middle. His world has been rocked. Here’s what he says.

“I don’ like it.” Eyes meeting mine, direct and assertive.

“What, Henry?”

“I don’ like it.” Still looking at me but with less force.

“What don’t you like, sweetheart?”

Henry casts his eyes down and lowers his voice. “I don’ know…”