On not knowing what a truck is

An increasing amount of what I say to my toddler consists of explanations and clarifications.

This is that. No, this is actually that. This does that. This is that other thing over there.

It’s when you start offering true first principles explanations for the world that you realize how obscenely complicated things are. It’s a wonder we manage to learn anything at all.

Take trucks, for instance.

“Truck” was one of my toddler’s first words, and he applied it to pretty much anything that moved. And then it was anything with wheels—office chair, stroller, bicycle—before we winnowed it down to a vehicle you might plausibly encounter on the street (and, obviously, small-scale reproductions of the same).

This gets you pretty far…but there are other categorical levels—it’s just that I get hazy on how to explain them.

Merriam-Webster doesn’t help much, defining a “truck” as:

a wheeled vehicle for moving heavy articles.

Oh, sure—but that’s pretty broad.

Turning to the multitude of kids’ books about trucks, they aren’t much help either.

In fact, the aptly named “Trucks” book we have, which has one “truck” on each page with delightful “learn more” fold-out flaps, suggests that a backhoe and a tractor are trucks.

Are they?

Merriam-Webster’s definition allows for it, but I don’t know many adults who would actually use the word to describe these vehicles (unless talking to a toddler).

So, tractors and backhoes may categorically be trucks—but we wouldn’t call them “trucks.”

(And don’t even get me started on whether SUVs are or are not trucks.)

While I’d love for there to be some essential “truckness” to teach my toddler, that’s not really how the world works—the world sometimes seems more about exceptions than rules.

We have to learn about things—like trucks—on a case by case basis.