Questions, Questions

I tend to be a questioner. When asked a question - What are we doing in the morning? - I return with - Well, what day is tomorrow? And what do we normally do on that day? Today Lou and I sat down to read a couple of Bob Books and she sounded out the letter P to sound like the letter T. I corrected her and on the next page she made the same mistake. So out came the questions. Pointing the the letter P - What letter is this? What sound does P make? She looked up at me and said, Why do you always ask me these questions you already know the answers to? I was a bit surprised because she uses this same tactic with her younger brother. Sitting on the couch with the wooden number puzzle on her lap, she'll coax him into telling her all the numbers. What number is oval? What number is your age? What number is blue? What number is yellow? Of course she knows the answers, but questioning him is a good way to help him discover the answers for himself. Then she smiles and praises him. After my moment of surprise I answered her question with a question - Don't you like it when I ask you a question and you get it right? Isn't it fun when I smile and say Good Job?