I was talking with other parents this week. One of the parents said his daughter has started asking the harder questions. Not the cute ones. The ones that go straight at the thing he's been teaching her. He'd say something, she'd turn it over, find the soft spot, and press.
He wasn't complaining. He looked more like a man who'd watched a door swing open and wasn't sure yet what was on the other side.
That got me thinking about my son. He turns seven soon. Right now he still takes the story in and doesn’t question much… a little, but doesn’t go too deep, yet.
But somewhere in the next year, the questions will start with him, too. I can feel them coming.
A few weeks back, in They're Old Enough to Filter You, I wrote about the filter that switches on around eight and how a good story still slips right past it. Talking with the other parents reminded me I only told half of it. Slipping a story past the filter is one thing.
What happens when they turn that filter around and point it at you is another.
That's this week.
What’s Inside
THE INSIGHT: What to do when your kid starts poking holes in what you say.
WHAT TO DO THIS WEEK: Don't defend. Get curious first.
PICKS: Better questions, curiosity, and thinking for themselves.
CHALLENGE: Let one question go unwon. Ask what they think, and let it stand.
THE INSIGHT
They're not pulling away. Their filter just switched on.
You already know what the filter does. It screens whatever feels aimed at them, so… "you should" dies before you finish the sentence.
What's new is that they run it out loud now, and they run it on you. Those are the deeper questions that parents start hearing around this transition period.
"That's not how it works."
"You said that last time and it didn't happen."
"Why does that even matter."
Story or straight talk, they turn the claim over, find the soft spot, and press.
That's not them being difficult. It's their critical faculty that one day stops a stranger from installing a random belief in them. Stops a TV screen, or a person who means them harm.
They're going to need it sharp, and right now they're running the first drills on the safest target they have. You.
Most of us get the next part wrong. They poke the hole, and we defend. Restate it, harder. Win the logic. Prove we were right. It feels like teaching and it does the opposite. Argue them head-on and you've stepped onto the filter's home court, the one place direct instruction was built to be screened. You lose the point, or you win it and they learn the questions cost them something. Either way the door closes a crack.
The story doesn't stop working when they get sharp. It grows up. The made-up creature from a far-away land gives way to a real person who went through the same thing, a fable you half-remember, a piece of history, the way Edison ran a thousand experiments instead of a thousand failures. Same method, sturdier vehicle. The meaning still goes in under the questions, because they aren't weighing whether it happened. They're deciding what to make of it.
So the worst move is the common one. You decide they're too sharp for stories and switch to telling them more directly… aka lecturing. And what does that lecture do… bounces right off.
You don't retire the story when the questions start. You let it grow up with them, and you stay the person they bring the questions to instead of the one they learn to stop asking.
Less of the method changes than you'd think. The story still installs, same as it always has. The meaning was always theirs to make, never yours to install.
You keep offering it, and the rest is theirs.
WHAT TO DO THIS WEEK
When the question comes, don't defend. Get curious first.
Next time your kid pokes a hole, catch the urge to set them straight and hold it for a second. That pause is the whole skill.
Then ask back.
"What makes you say that?"
"How do you think it actually works?"
Let them keep going. The faculty wants a workout. Give it one that runs toward you instead of away.
When they catch a real hole, hand it to them.
"Good catch, I had that wrong." or "I actually don't know."
A kid running a filter is checking whether you'll bluff. Admit the gap and you prove the filter can trust you, and they keep bringing you the next question instead of writing you off.
The goal isn't to win the exchange. It's that they bring you the next ten.
Pro tip: The questions can feel like they're pulling back from you. They're doing the opposite. A kid only pokes holes in front of someone they trust. The ones who go quiet didn't stop wondering. They found out the wondering wasn't welcome, and took it somewhere else.
PICKS
🎧 Listen: How to Teach Your Child to Think Critically – Curious Neuron podcast with Julie Bogart - How to welcome your child’s new filter, use stories and real‑life moments to sharpen it, and stay the safe person they bring their hardest questions to.
📚 Read: Raising Critical Thinkers: A Parent’s Guide to Growing Wise Kids in the Digital Age by Julie Bogart - This is a full‑length parenting book about nurturing critical thinking in kids across ages and contexts, including questioning and testing ideas.
❤️ Quote: “Children are not things to be molded, but are people to be unfolded.” – Jess Lair
CHALLENGE
This week, let one question go unwon. When your kid pokes a hole in something you told them, hold the correction.
Ask them what they think instead, and let their answer stand without fixing it. Then watch what they bring you next.
STORY STRONG SESSION
If your kid has started questioning everything and it feels like you're losing your footing, you're not. The parenting just changed under you. That's what these sessions are for.
Bring the question that stumped you. We'll work out how to meet the next one.
PAST NEWSLETTERS