When you are in Kindergarten and learn new skills it’s a big deal to show them off. My son now likes to write his name. He has mastered both Will and William. I’m all about writing, be it names, books, letters or anything else. I love sidewalk chalk, pens with different colored ink, colored paper and
notebooks. What I don’t love is when people write on things that aren’t for writing on. Some of the most beautiful writing I’ve seen in my whole life has
been painted across trains in the form of graffiti or carved into picnic tables but that isn’t where it belongs.
So you can imagine the horror I felt yesterday when I saw that my son had written his name on my WALL! And even though it was written at the perfect height and precisely in his handwriting, he denied doing it. He lied and said that he would never do such a thing. He is such a good liar that he almost had his father convinced that he didn’t do it. “Do you think it was a
set-up and McKenzie did this to get him in trouble?” When I asked McKenzie she was disgusted with us, not that we were questioning if she could be that
devious, but because we could possibly think she wrote that sloppy, like a Kindergartener.
He clearly did it but won’t admit to it, he keeps lying saying he knows better. I gave him one last opportunity to tell the truth with the opportunity to get his sentence reduced and he looked me in the eyes and lied again. Before bed last night my husband and I were discussing the situation. “It was really good wasn’t it?” “Yes it was, he must have taken his time to do it so neatly. He’s getting way better at it.”
Hey, we’ll take what we can get.
My daughter reads accelerated reader books at school and is currently reading Cat Walk by Mary Stolz. I was surprised yesterday when she told me that there were “bad words” in the book. She even marked the page so she could show her teacher and get the book banned from school.
The paragraph went like this:
Horace, whose whiskers and tail tip were twitching, didn’t reply, but Catherine, the crow, perching on a disused hay baler, squawked with scorn.
“Cats are asses!” she croaked.
“Cats are cats,” said Max. Asses are
“You’re a fool!”
So there you have it, cats are asses. I thought
it was comical but she’s right, it’s not a word that I would like her to say but it isn’t a really bad word either. We’ll see how I feel in a few years when my
son is in 3rd grade and I find the word written on my wall!
Over and out! Have a good day.