Answer:
What loses its head in the morning and gets it back at night?
The moon is my father. The sea is my mother. I have a million brothers. I die when I reach land.
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?
What can be big, white, dirty and wicked?
I am always hungry, I must always be fed. The finger I lick will soon turn red.
The sun bakes them, The hand breaks them, The foot treads on them, And the mouth tastes them. What are they?