Where exactly is the middle of nowhere?

My nephews Leo (8) and Julius (10) are staying with me. They’re sitting on the couch while I’m doing the dishes, and this is what I hear:

“Will you join me? Why not? Don’t be boring.”

“Stop killing me.”

“Yeah, but you just died to annoy me.”

“Aunt Lara, will you play the pirate game with me? Leo drove a school bus full of children into a ravine and now he has to rescue them.”

Whenever Leo and Julius stay with me, they get unlimited iPad time, which they gratefully take full advantage of. As the weekend progresses, their eyes slowly turn square and their necks stiffen from the classic phone posture. But stop playing? Not a chance. Only a pancake with syrup and powdered sugar can convince them to put their devices down for 30 seconds.

What I hadn’t realised before is that Leo and Julius actually play together. Each on their own device: Leo on my old phone and Julius on my old iPad. Sitting right next to each other on the couch, both in Roblox.

They help each other build villages, give each other grain and rescue each other from scary birds.

Somewhere between the killing and the building, Leo asks:

“Aunt Lara, where exactly is the middle of nowhere?”

“Wow, Leo, where did that come from?” (And who said iPads make you stupid?)

I love the power of questions. I make good use of them in my coaching. One good question can completely change the way you look at something. But I’ll admit: I’m not sure I’ll ever top this level.

We ask ChatGPT, which tells us that as soon as you know where the middle of nowhere is, it isn’t nowhere anymore. So where it actually is, we still don’t know.

We throw a few more brainteasers into the mix that we can’t solve either:

“Which came first, the chicken or the egg?”

And my personal headache-inducing favourite:

“Nothing is certain. And even that isn’t certain.”

We keep trying to find answers until our heads start to hurt a little, and Leo and Julius go back to their games while I go back to the dishes.

“Aunt Lara, can I have another pancake?” I hear from the living room.

“With syrup and powdered sugar again?”

“Yes, please.”

“And shall we go to the playground later?”

“Yes, Aunt Lara. That’s fine. I just need to finish this level first.”

And just like that, we’re back to questions we don’t need ChatGPT to answer.