Why?

I was always the kid who had to know why.  I can't remember how many times my exasperated mother said, "Because I said so!"

I have questions.  Sometimes lots of them.  You have to be patient with me till I really know what I'm doing, because my imagination can think of more ways to do things than you might believe -- and chances are pretty good most of them are not what you are thinking of.

You say, "Bring me a stick!"  I wonder, how big, how long, how wide, what color, where from?

Once I understand?  I'm like a lab who has finally learned to fetch. 

The sticks will pile up at your feet like raindrops in a deluge.