These days, my kids notice everything. And ask about everything. I admit, much of the time, they ask me a question that -- because my memory of seventh grade science class isn’t so sharp -- I say, "Let’s Google it." But sometimes, unfortunately, not even "The Google" can answer their inquiries.

Such is the case with their ongoing interest in panhandlers. We encounter them weekly, sometimes more, and it always inspires conversation that, quite frankly, I can’t answer in a cut-and-dried fashion.

The truth is, sometimes I give a dollar to panhandlers, sometimes I offer food (if I am approached in a grocery store parking lot) and sometimes -- for the love of Nancy Reagan -- I just say "no." Really, it depends on my mood, on the way I’m approached and whether or not I truly have money in my pocket.

"Why didn’t you give that man any money?" My kid asked yesterday after we were asked for cash for gas in a Capitol Drive parking lot.

"Because he was rude," I said.

"So you only give money to people who are nice?" he asks.

Crap. I have no idea how to answer this. Google, wanna weigh in?

I really can’t say that I always give money to "nice" people. I remember an instance this summer, when a seemingly nice woman asked me for money on Brady Street, and I said no, simply because I was feel strapped for cash myself.

"Sometimes I say yes and sometimes I say no," I finally tell my son.

I find panhandling a very complex issue, one that really can’t be explained to 6-year-olds. However, I am introducing them to another aspect of life: The reality that most things are not black-and-white, rather a slippery shade of gray, a color most of us cannot see until we are well into adulthood.

I hope they get this more quickly than I did.