After licking powdered sugar off of her index finger Urania said, “You know…this ‘story’ about questions is about as difficult to pull together as the powdered sugar on yesterday’s Paczki…fluff everywhere!”
“Well we’ll just have to talk it out in front of everyone…even if we make a mess,” said Thalia.
“Ummm….what makes that different than any other day?” Calliope giggled. “Let me lead! I am the Muse of Many Questions.”
“Fine, go ahead,” said Urania and Thalia in unison. Both were too busy scrounging for sugar to jinx each other.
“Well…didn’t we teach kindergarteners to lilt their voices at the last word of a sentence ending with a question mark…like the word was attached to a red helium balloon?” Calliope asked.
“Yes, and…is it really a question if we already know the answer before we ask it?” Urania raised her eyebrows.
“Yes…if I was really questioning my memory—and you do make a freshly sharpened Ticonderoga point—we do ask a lot of confirmation questions. Am I right?” Calliope laughed with mirth.
“Is that called leading the witness?” asked Thalia. “Sowing our knowing while leaving a sliver of space for the unexpected?”
“That rhymed!” said Calliope and Urania. “Sowing our knowing—ha!”
“Here’s the heart of it,” Calliope went on, “All questions start with a sliver of knowing…at a minimum…we are aware the idea, person, place, thing, or action exists…right?”
“Right! Like if we had never tasted maple syrup…how could we be curious about the process of tapping trees and boiling sap?” asked Urania.
“Yes, and…haven’t we found that the most fruitful questions come from curiosity, growing our understanding about ourselves and the world?” asked Calliope.
“Challenging what we know…instead of confirming it?” Calliope lilted her voice on the word “it”.
“Can I make a statement?…a permission question!” asked Thalia.
“Sure…,”
“We are done for today. Let’s make breakfast.”
Huh?