What Happened At School Yesterday. Or The Difference Between What’s Real and What’s Pretend.

Asher had his first day of kindergarten yesterday. Very, very unexpectedly.

He seemed pretty okay with it.

In fact, for a kid that loves the word “no,” he never once expressed any negative emotion about leaving his preschool, which he thought he was going to until a few days ago, and heading to an entirely new, unknown, scary place.

But I was riddled with anxiety.

Before, during and after.

When I picked him up, he seemed fine.

In fact, he flashed me this (somewhat forced) smile in the car on the way home.

He couldn’t wait to show me his homework folder and pulled it out of his backpack immediately.

And he started talking about his “senses,” which they’d learned in class that day.

He even wanted to do his homework.

(As an aside. this much homework in kindergarten? Geez. What happened to duck, duck, goose.)

So I breathed a sigh of relief.

Then we got home, had a snack and I asked him about his day.

Reluctantly.

Because this child has his mother’s dislike for conversation.

The usual answer is, “I don’t want to talk about my day.”

But, for once, he actually was somewhat forthcoming.

At school, they wear uniforms. Asher was in a green shirt and the requisite khaki bottoms.

I asked if everyone was dressed like him.

He told me no. In fact, some were in white shirts.

He continued on to tell me his favorite part of the day was recess (no duh!), that he’d used a computer at school and they had headphones for their computers and that we should get some too because then it was quiet for everyone else but he could hear. (Good idea, little man).

And after a few more comments about his day that I THINK were real, he proceeded to tell me that they had a jumpy house at school (not), a fire on the playground (i think not), that a fire engine came and put it out, and that the REAL Perry the Platypus came to visit them.

Ahem.

So we had a little talk about Pinocchio and the growing nose and the telling of the truth and what’s pretend and what’s real and how, while it’s awesome to pretend and have an imagination, one must always tell one’s mommy what it real and what is not.

Then he flashed me a mischievous grin.

And once again, I was reminded of my parents’ wish for me whenever I was being obstinate (all the time), naughty (some of the time) or precocious (moi?): that I should one day have a child who would give this all back to me in due measure.

Plus some.

Mom. Dad. Consider yourself avenged.