I have two nieces: one, seven and the other nine years old.

One day, Janine Elysse, the youngest, asked me: what do you call a baby monkey? I was silent for a few seconds and then I blurted out: Who's asking?

(I was about to say: Of course, you call it a baby monkey a 'baby monkey', what else? but then I held my tongue back because I'm maybe wrong).

Perplexed with a question, I, as usual, googled it.

I was surprised at some of the answers I found:

One respondent in answerbag.com said that because monkeys are mammals and primates, their babies are called 'infants'. (Sounds credible).

Another suggested suckling or yearling. (Hmmm...I'd go for infant).

Funny responses include: 'call it Junior if he looks like his daddy', 'call it whatever you want, he won't understand!'. (Haha!)

So I decided to give Janine my response: you call a baby monkey, infant.

She came back! What do you call a baby insect?

(I was about to say, what kind of question is that?!, but then realized that I have to entertain a question of an inquisitive mind. I don't remember having been asked that question by my primary teachers? What is Janine's school into?! Well, at least, she's learning, I told myself.)

Courtesy of North Carolina College of Agriculture and Life Sciences, I found the following answers:

The names of baby insects depend on its type of metamorphosis: ametabola, hemimetabola, or holometabola.

In ametabolous insects, the immatures are called young. Ametabolous insects undergo little or no structural change as they grow older. Immatures are called young; they are physically similar to adults in every way except size and sexual
maturity. Other than size, there is no external manifestation of their age or reproductive state.

In hemimetabolous insects, the immatures are called nymphs. Hemimetabolous insects exhibit gradual changes in body form during morphogenesis. Immatures are called nymphs or, if aquatic, naiads. Maturation of wings, external genitalia, and other adult structures occurs in small steps from molt to molt. Wings may be completely absent during the first instar (instar means the end of one growth stage), appear in the second or third instar as short wing buds, and grow with each molt until they are fully developed and functional in the adult stage. Developmental changes that occur during gradual metamorphosis are usually visible externally as the insect grows, but adults retain the same organs and appendages as nymphs (eyes, legs, mouthparts, etc.).

In holometabolous insects, the immatures are called larvae and pupae. Holometabolous insects have immature forms (larvae) that are very different from adults. Larvae are "feeding machines", adapted mostly for consuming food and growing in size. They become larger at each molt but do not acquire any adult-like characteristics. When fully grown, larvae molt to an immobile pupal stage and undergo a complete transformation. Larval organs and appendages are broken down (digested internally) and replaced with new adult structures that grow from imaginal discs, clusters of undifferentiated (embryonic) tissue that form during embryogenesis but remain dormant throughout the larval instars. The adult stage, which usually bears wings, is mainly adapted for dispersal and reproduction.

It's nice to answer elementary questions. It brings back old-found knowledge. We don't really need to know these things but I think it gives a nice feeling of knowing it somehow.

• A baby kangaroo is a joey.
• A baby swan? A cygnet.
• A baby eel? An elver (I'm surprised to find out about this!)
• A baby hare? A leveret.
• And a baby turkey is called a poult.

I saw one article from Time Magazine that says: "As far as our brains are concerned, learning something new or even retrieving something from memory is a plasticity response," says Molly Wagster of the National Institute on Aging. It may get harder as you age, but if you can teach an old brain new tricks, you might, just might, also be able to keep it functioning well into the 90s."

I'm learning from my nieces and I'm also relearning things that I thought I knew but apparently didn't (or I may have forgotten about them because of old age). It's nice that, once in a while, my mind is jogged a little.

I need that to thwart the pangs of 'forgetting things' which is, sadly, slowly creeping in me as I'm growing old. Answering elementary questions such as the name of a baby monkey helps.