Anyone who has spent time with a toddler is all too familiar with the "why" stage. Every statement that an adult makes is followed by a tiny, pestering, voice asking "Why?" The too-pat answer of "Just because" rarely ends that conversation because children of that stage just won't give up. Eventually, they grow up and in their teen years, the conversation flips to the parent always asking "Why?" Of course, by then the child no longer cares to continue any conversation with his or her parents and the "why" becomes moot.

Here's the thing. I come from a family of what I call "why" people. We can't just let things be. We have to know why. And this time it isn't solely my mother's fault. I'll blame it on my dad, too. My dad was probably a biologist for a reason -- to search for the answer to the "whys" in his mind. My mother, on the other hand, just has to know why things are the way they are.

So...again, this is a genetic thing. I know this is so. Here's an example: as a teenager, I developed a severe case of Achilles tendonitis in both ankles. This in itself is quite painful, so I finally sought relief from the family doc. He hemmed and hawed, then left the room and returned with a hypodermic the size of a horse needle. I asked why. Wouldn't any sane person want to know why?

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