the dangerous activity of asking questions

I have tried to explain to my children that I am not a walking, talking google. No matter how badly they want to know the answer to some thing, if I do not know it, and can not think up a good story, I will simply say I do not know.

For example, I do not know when I am driving the car around a one way system trying to get to the Cheltenham Science Festival exactly what time it is on the other side of the world (to the second, no less,) and what they are eating at that particular moment.

It was with huge relief, and a great deal of childish excitement unbecoming a grown woman-and-mother-of-four, that I handed my children's constant questioning over to the enthusiastic staff of the many stands.

I stood and waited with my children to find out how the magnet lit up the led lights after it went down the copper tubes, and how the cyclone maker made the cyclones, how the heat sensitive cameras worked, and how the snails knew which way was North.

There was the odd sticky moment, when Eb in particular was not satisfied with an answer, and would ask "Yes, but Why?" Then the gallant stand holder would endeavour to explain all over again what he had already said, without ever resorting to "because I said so".

I came home laden down with pamphlets, light up bouncy balls, experiment ideas, cloud guides and other sciency things.

There was a pause for almost ten minutes and then Eb asked.

"How does the bouncy ball light up?"

And so it began again.....