Question: “Hey Dad! What is your favorite _______?”
Answer: “Groan.”
I hate that question. Mind you, I’m glad that the FOMLs care enough to ask, but I really dread it. Why? Because I am not very good at answering it. I have lived too much life to be able to narrow it down.
Occasionally I can nail it – “Who is your favorite person in the whole world?”
“Your Mom.” That’s easy.
“Which one of the kids is your favorite?”
“Your sister.” Easy. (What??? I’m not supposed to say that? Oops!)
But then they get into areas where I can’t possibly answer the question:
“Hey Dad! What is your favorite food?”
“Ummm. Ummmm. Could you narrow it down?”
“OK, What is your favorite ethnic food?”
“Still too broad.”
“OK, (tiring now) what is your favorite Italian food?”
“In the USA, or in actual Italy?”
“In the USA.” (First signs of exasperation begin to show.)
“Does pizza count?”
“Yes.”
“Let me get this straight – you want to know what my favorite American/Italian food is, which could include pasta, pizza, soups, grilled meats, sausages, or any other type of food. And gelato. Does gelato count?”
“Yes. What is your favorite food?” (Irritation rears its ugly head.)
“OK. Here is my answer: I don’t know! I have lots of favorite foods. And what is my favorite today, might not be my favorite tomorrow.”
“Nevermind.”
— Yet they persist: “Dad, what is your favorite…..
Ice cream
Movie
Scripture
Book
Song
Band
Actor
Car
TV show
Restaurant
…and it goes on.
(I will admit that sometimes I name something random, just to put a stop to the interrogation.)
There are just too many good things out there to enjoy, and new ones to discover. How can I make a definitive statement when moods, and experience are ever-changing? How does one compare Hamlet with the Holy Grail? How do you rank cheesecake and carrot cake without doing a disservice to one or the other? Maple bars or apple fritters? It’s a veritable Sophie’s Choice!
I do know a guy who knows exactly what his favorite food is, and eats it almost every day. He’s seven. And he dips them in Ranch.
There are other ways to ask the question that can be more productive. I am able to answer the variation, “If you were stranded on a desert island, what is the one book you would take with you…”
I always figure that “War and Peace” by Leo Tolstoy would be a good selection, because I could start a lot of fires with the pages of a book that large. Thanks goodness I have the Standard Works memorized.
I’m just not very good at singling out favorites. Now, if you narrow it down and ask “What is the best book you read this summer?” I might have a shot at it. Or even ask what are your top 5 favorite movies.
The more specific, the better: “What is the best Mexican food you have had this week at a non-fast-food restaurant that involved an actual waiter. On a Tuesday.”
That, I can do.
Ahhhhhh. Cute article. But I do know what you mean about being more specific with their questions. But.. what about when they can’t accept your answer? For instance…They ask my favorite color. I say black. They inform me that black isn’t a color. Then I say that I suppose I just really like them all equally. I do! But then they tell me I have to pick ONE! I can’t. But if I must it is black. They roll their eyes and walk away thinking something is wrong with me. There is, but that is beside the point. ;p
I’m a tad behind with my memory albums…1984. But I have been working them. It’s a heartwarming/heartbreaking trip down memory lane when you are now the ‘older generation’. So one of the things that I found in the 1984 box was some notes that I had taken for a FHE lesson. Our oldest two were married and had homes of their own and #3 was at Ricks, but the 4 younger ones participated (humored me) in a “What is your favorite _____. I had things like chore, sport, cookie, dinner, etc. It was a fun thing to read thru and I was surprised to note that some of them had the same favorites to this day.
AuntSue
My favorite LDS male blogger, formerly big wig with FAIR, with 5 foml that are all his favorites, whose favorite woman is his EC, is MMM.
I thought you were talking about lil’ ol’ me, until you mentioned FAIR.
Could be wrong about that,, I have been known to be wrong occasionally.
What I hate is “What is your favorite color?” Well, it depends on my favorite color of WHAT. My favorite color of ice pops is red. My favorite color of shirt is turquoise. My favorite color of shirt on my husband is brown. My favorite color of countertop is . . . well you get the point!
I remember being younger and thinking it was possible to have a favorite among everything and everyone.
Now I realize that there are just too many ways to compare, too many moods to be in, too many things to put everything into a strict line from most to least liked.
Sometimes it’s even more obvious. Which is my favorite candidate among the 2 obviously corrupt politicians running for a particular office? Which is my favorite among my children or my parents or grandparents or siblings or other relations?
I don’t think the mortal mind has the capacity to accurately and consistently rank things in comparison with each other. However, I can tell you that on a scale of 1 to 10, those politicians don’t reach up to 1, and my family would have a tough time reaching as low as 10.
So I’ll just say, “I think that’s a broken question, but here are some I like, and here’s why. Keep in mind that my answers don’t reduce the possibility of other answers, and the answers that come to mind today may not be the answers I would give tomorrow.”
We are a bike-riding family, which means lots of time spent together chatting while we spin the wheels. The kidlet LOVES playing favourites. The trick to playing is to just say pretty much whatever comes in to your head. They’re going to ask the same question in a few days, and you can answer differently then. Plus, it’s fun to ask them the question back….which is what they want in the first place. While they’re saying “What’s your favourite…” what they really mean is, “I like this certain thing and I want you to ask me what’s my favourite so I can tell you about that certain thing.” And when you do they feel like you care about what matters to them. Warm fuzzies abound.
Exactly. I have found the kids are just trying to open up a conversation, so I have learned to just think for a moment, and answer whatever comes to mind. Madiantin is right — it shows the kids that you care about them. I second the warm fuzzies.
Our family has never been at a loss for conversation, so I’m not too worried about seeking warm fuzzes. I am, however, hoping they learn how to ask better questions – to become better conversationalists. (Remember, my youngest is 12, not 3)