Why the "Why?" Game is the Most Valuable Thing I Do With My Kids

We've all played it at some point.

Parent: Clean your room.

Child: Why?

Parent: Because your room needs to be clean.

Child: Why?

Parent: Because it's important to keep things tidy.

Child: Why?

...and so on, into the infinite regress of childlike curiosity that both delights and (if we're honest) sometimes exhausts us.

And yet—it's my favorite game in the world.

Because "Why?" Is a Gift

As far as I'm concerned, fostering curiosity is one of the most valuable things we can do for our children. That instinct to ask why isn't a phase to be outgrown—it's the foundation of intelligence, empathy, and even morality.

A child who asks "why" is a child who is trying to understand not just what the world is, but how it works—and more importantly, why it works the way it does. That kind of questioning is where critical thinking begins. It's where science starts. It's the seed of philosophy, problem-solving, and deep understanding.

The Game Only Works if You Play Back

I think the instinct many of us have—and I include myself here—is to treat "Why?" like a delay tactic. A form of defiance, or at least an inconvenience. But in my experience with my own kids, it's rarely that. More often, it's an invitation.

It's a child saying: Let me see inside your brain. Let me learn how to think like you. Show me how to reason.

So I try to do that.

Sometimes the answers are easy.

"Because if you leave food on the floor, ants will come."

Sometimes the answers go deeper.

"Because learning to take care of your space helps you build discipline, and discipline is how you chase your dreams even when you're tired."

And sometimes we reach what feels like a dead end.

"I don't know. I think I was told that once and never really questioned it."

That's the moment where I used to feel stuck—like I'd failed somehow, or like the conversation had to end because I'd run out of authority.

But I've learned that's actually where the real magic becomes possible.

That moment when a parent looks their child in the eye and says:

"Let's figure it out."

Because now, you're not just giving them information. You're modeling curiosity. You're saying, I don't know either, but I want to.

You're inviting them to seek with you.

And that's when a child learns that "I don't know" isn't the end of the road—it's a launchpad.

Curiosity Is a Muscle

If you want to raise a thinker, you have to protect their "why." You have to feed it, stretch it, let it be annoying sometimes. The world will try to stamp it out. Institutions, systems, even well-meaning adults will try to replace the question with a rule.

But the kids who keep asking?

Those are often the ones who end up changing things.

I don't always have the energy. I get tired. Sometimes I do give the brush-off answer. And sometimes—especially when safety is involved—the answer really is just "because I need you to trust me on this one right now." That's okay too. This isn't about being perfect or endlessly available. It's about the pattern we create over time.

But when I can, I try to say: "That's a good question. What do you think?"

Because the moment I stop taking their curiosity seriously is the moment they might stop, too.

Final Thought

The "Why?" Game isn't just a game. It's rehearsal.

For critical thought. For dialogue. For the internal monologue they'll someday have with themselves when they're trying to figure out what kind of person they want to be.

For me and my kids, it's been one of the most valuable things we do together.

And if I'm lucky, they’ll keep asking “why?”

Even when I’m not there to answer.