The questions we aren't prepared to answer

Tonight as we reached the conclusion of our bedtime ritual, my husband and I and our two girls covered our eyes and chanted, “Shema, Yisrael, Adonai Eloheynu. Adonai echad.” Roughly translated: “Hear, O Israel! The Ruler is our G-d. G-d is one.”

My husband asked the girls, “What does ‘Adonai’ mean?” They both answered “G-d.”
And then, “What does ‘echad’ mean?” “One.”

Hannah spontaneously added, based on one of her books, “G-d is everywhere!” She accompanied this by circling her hand in the air. We chuckled, but she quickly turned serious. “What does G-d mean?”

We should have seen this coming. These last few weeks have been a crescendo of questioning. Sometimes she asks for detailed information that was previously not required: “What did your meeting look like?” “What will Maritza [our babysitter] do with the money?” But it is just as likely that she will point to known objects, like a bunny or a dog, in story books she has been read dozens of times and ask, “What is that?” Sometimes a simple “bunny” will satisfy her. Sometimes she will press on with, “What is that bunny doing?”

It seems to my husband and me that she is checking to see if we will give the expected answer or if she will be able to eke out a new tidbit of information in the way we phrase our answer. Perhaps she is cataloguing synonyms. Perhaps children this age are just programmed to ask questions and can’t stop themselves even when they know the answer. What is clear is that she is on a mission.

“What does G-d mean?” As a Jewish convert, I tend to defer to my husband on explaining matters of faith to the girls. I suppose I fear that my Catholic upbringing will sneak into my explanations and that I’ll unknowingly impart a Christian take on Judaism. In this particular case I must admit that I found my husband’s lack of preparation for this question (evident on his face) somewhat amusing, so I quickly stated (in front of another relative), “That’s your Daddy’s department!”

I believe he uttered “thanks,” under his breath before saying, “Well. That’s an interesting question. I just thought it would be five or six years before you asked it!” He paused to gather himself, “Well, you know that G-d helped Mommy and I make you and your sister.”

Unimpressed, “What does G-d mean?”

Taking a different tack, “Well, who helped us make your little bodies?”

“G-d.” Now he had managed to make her say ‘G-d’ as the answer to a question, and he was on more solid ground. He was able to distract her with an unrelated question, get her in her crib, and get out of the room without event. “Now no more talking. It’s time to go to bed.” Ah, the abuses of power.

He exclaimed upon shutting their door, “I’ve got to call the rabbi!” We chuckled and breathed a sigh of relief, but we both know that our cunning is only illusory. It will not be long before another toddler’s question will lay bare our inadequacies.