Answered With Total Confidence and Absolutely No Idea

It was taco Tuesday, and the six-year-old had shredded cheese in her eyebrow when she asked. "Mom, why is the sky blue?"

Three faces turned to me. Even the dog looked up. My husband, who absolutely knew, took a long, slow sip of water and let me have the moment.

"Because," I said, "it's reflecting the ocean."

It isn't. I've since found out what it actually is. That night I started a note on my phone called "Things I Said Like I Was Sure." This is that list, corrected.

1. Why is the sky blue?

They think I know: The physics, cold, plus the follow-up about sunsets.

What I actually know: The ocean thing, delivered like a news anchor. It's wrong. The sky is just as blue over Arizona.

What you actually need to know: Sunlight carries every color. When it hits the air, the tiny gas molecules scatter the short blue wavelengths far more than the long red ones, so blue comes at you from every direction. At sunset the light travels through much more air to reach you, most of the blue gets scattered away on the trip, and the reds and oranges are what's left. It's called Rayleigh scattering, a great phrase to say slowly at dinner.

2. Who started it?

They think I know: The full replay, slow motion, multiple angles.

What I actually know: I was in the bathroom for ninety seconds. I came out to two crying children and a throw pillow on the ceiling fan.

What you actually need to know: You don't have to know. Separate them, let both cool down, and deal only with what you saw yourself. A trial with no witnesses rewards the better lawyer, and the better lawyer is usually the older sibling. I go deeper on this in when to referee a sibling fight and when to walk away.

3. How do you get gum out of hair?

They think I know: There's a trick.

What I actually know: Where the scissors are. One of my kids wore lopsided bangs through an entire school picture day. That photo is framed. I walk past my crime daily.

What you actually need to know: Put the scissors down. Work a spoonful of vegetable oil, coconut oil or peanut butter into the gum with your fingers, sliding it down the strands toward the ends. Skip the peanut butter if anyone in the house has a peanut allergy. The oil breaks the stick. Comb it out with a fine-tooth comb, then shampoo twice. If the gum's right at the scalp, hold an ice cube on it for a minute first so it hardens and crumbles.

4. What do I do if I get lost in the store?

They think I know: I have a plan.

What I actually know: I lost my eight-year-old in a big-box store once, for about four minutes. He was in the Halloween aisle wearing a werewolf mask. I aged ten years. He had a wonderful time.

What you actually need to know: Teach two rules out loud before you walk in. Stay where you are, because a searching parent finds a still kid much faster than a wandering one. If you need help, go to a cashier at a register or a mom with kids. Then get your phone number into their heads. Sing it to a tune, practice it in the car, and for crowded places like fairs and theme parks, write it on their forearm in washable marker.

5. Will this stain come out?

They think I know: Every stain, its cause and its cure, like a doctor reading an X-ray.

What I actually know: I once ran a shirt with a nosebleed on it through a hot wash and a hot dryer. It now has a permanent map of Ohio on the front.

What you actually need to know: Blood gets cold water, right away, from the back of the fabric. Never hot, because heat cooks the protein into the fibers. Grass and food stains get a rub of enzyme laundry detergent and fifteen minutes to sit before washing. Then check every stain before it goes in the dryer. Still there? Treat it again. The dryer is where stains go to become permanent.

6. Is this fever too high?

They think I know: I read thermometers like a fortune teller.

What I actually know: At 2 a.m., every number looks like an emergency, and I've searched myself into a full panic more than once.

What you actually need to know: For a baby under 3 months, a rectal temperature of 100.4°F or higher means call the doctor right away, day or night. For older kids, how they're acting matters more than the number. A kid at 102 who's watching cartoons and sipping juice is often doing better than one at 100.5 who's limp and won't drink. Trouble breathing, a stiff neck, or a child you can't wake properly means calling 911. Dose fever reducers by your child's weight using the cup that came in that box, and never give children aspirin. When you're unsure, call your pediatrician's after-hours nurse line. That's exactly what it's for.

7. How do you fold a fitted sheet?

They think I know: Moms get this skill at the hospital along with the diaper bag.

What I actually know: I roll it into a ball the size of a beach ball and hide it behind the towels. My husband folds them into crisp squares. His grandmother taught him at twelve, and he's quietly proud of it. He should be.

What you actually need to know: Turn it inside out and put one hand in each of two corner pockets. Bring your hands together and tuck one corner over the other so the pockets nest. Do the same with the other two corners, then nest those pairs together. Lay it flat, fold the curved edges in to make a rough rectangle, and fold it into thirds. Your first try will look like a deflated tent. Your third won't.

8. Is the chicken done?

They think I know: I can tell by looking.

What I actually know: I cut it open, squint, declare it "basically white," then quietly microwave my own piece for another minute.

What you actually need to know: Color lies. Push an instant-read thermometer into the thickest part, not touching bone. Chicken is safe at 165°F. An inexpensive digital one ends the squinting forever, and your chicken stops being dry because you quit overcooking it out of fear.

9. Can you get this splinter out?

They think I know: I'm a surgeon with tweezers.

What I actually know: I mostly push it deeper while saying "almost got it" in my calm dentist voice.

What you actually need to know: Wash your hands and the spot with soap and water. Soak it in warm water for a few minutes to soften the skin. Wipe the tweezers with rubbing alcohol, grab the exposed end, and pull it out at the same angle it went in. If it's deep, under a fingernail, made of glass or metal, or the spot turns red, swollen and warm over the next few days, call the doctor.

The one I'm glad they asked

A week after the sky incident, my nine-year-old asked, "What was Grandma like when she was little?"

I didn't know. Not really. I knew she grew up on a farm and hated canned peas. That was about it.

So we found out together. Call Grandma and ask if you can come over Sunday afternoon. Bring dessert, because you never show up empty-handed to the house that raised you. Ask her permission to record on your phone, then let the kids run the interview. Give them a few starters on an index card:

• What did you do on a Saturday when you were my age?
• What got you in trouble?
• What was your first job, and what did you buy with the money?
• How did you meet Grandpa?

Write the best answers in a notebook that lives in the kitchen drawer. Your teenager may sigh through the whole drive over. She's still listening, and she'll want that recording someday.

We learned a lot that afternoon. The best part came near the end, when Grandma admitted she once told her own kids the sky was blue because it reflected the ocean.

Some things run in families.