It was a sunny afternoon, and we were running errands with our three grandkids. To keep them from getting bored, and to entertain myself a little, I decided to introduce them to some classic tongue twisters. The older boys seemed less than enthusiastic, but finally, Sam, the seven-year-old, decided to give it a try.

We started with the classic, “She Sells Seashells’ and then moved on to “Fuzzy Wuzzy.”  Sam would repeat each poem until he had mastered the words and the rhythm.  He was a quick study, and we were both having a great time.  Up next was “How much wood could a woodchuck chuck?” This one seemed to really intrigue him.  He practiced it carefully, until he could repeat it the required ‘five-times-fast.’

  I was ready to move on to the next poem, but Sam stopped me.  He had a serious tone in his voice when we asked earnestly, “So how much wood could a woodchuck chuck?”

That threw a curve ball into the game.

“Well, I’m not really sure,” I offered.  “I suppose it depends on the situation.  You know how much wood does he need? How much wood does he actually have available for chucking?”

I was winging it and Sam could tell.

He let me babble on for a while, but finally Sam took pity on me and interrupted my ramblings.

“That’s OK, Gramma.  I’m pretty sure that it would be a lot.” And that was all the answer that he needed. He didn’t require a situational analysis or detailed explanation of the available wood as it relates to the problem at hand.  ‘A lot’ answered the question just fine.

It occurred to me that Sam was on to something. Often the answer really is that simple if we quit going out of our way to complicate things.  So the next time I find myself overworking something I’m going to remember the woodchuck and Sam’s pragmatic approach to solving the age-old question “How much wood could a wouldchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?”