By Lydia Wayman
Why are you so loud?
Why can’t you whisper?
Why are you holding your spoon like that?
Why do you run weird?
Why do you do that stretching thing like every four seconds?
Why can’t you sit nicely like the other girls?
Why do your tights fall apart after one wear?
Why can’t you keep track of your stuff!
Why do I have to stand here and list every step to get you to clean up?
Why do you leave your stuff everywhere?
Why are these black shorts fine but the other pair isn’t okay?
Why won’t you play kickball in gym glass?
Why don’t you play with the other kids at recess?
Why can’t you just use the closest bathroom at the mall?
Why don’t you turn the lights out when you go to bed?
Why don’t you get off the computer and talk to real people?
Why do I have to show you how to do this a hundred times?
Why can’t you just write things on your calendar and then check it?
Why is it such an ordeal to leave the house?
Why can’t you just take a bite?
Why don’t you look at me when I talk to you?
Why don’t you just try the jeans?
Why is it taking you forever to answer my simple questions?
Why won’t you talk about anything but cats?
Why are you so smart?
Why are you so weird?
Why… are… you…
Why does it matter?