I was trying to put Chooch’s coat on him this morning before school, when he quite earnestly asked, “What makes me have dreams?”
Great. Anything more than, “What is your name?” and “Name the cast of the Jersey Shore” is too hard of a question to dump on me pre-8:00am. “I don’t know. Your brain, I guess,” I mumbled, struggling with the zipper.
Chooch made a very agitated noise, and then spat, “Well, I hate my brain.” He paused, (waiting for me to ask why, I’m sure, which never happened because I was too busy being gagged by a yawn) before explaining, “Because it made me dream about Dora.”
Poor child. I would hate that brain, too.
Today’s Show n Tell is for the letter S. I gave him my Sid & Marty Kroft Sigmund the Sea Monster plushie to take. I originally was going to let him take his play sword, but Henry was like, “Um, no. They’re not allowed to take swords.”
“What? Why? Where does it say that?” I asked, wondering if there was some bulletin I missed (which would pretty much be all of the bulletins).
“Um, they’re not allowed to take anything that resembles a weapon. It pretty much says that everywhere, in every school.” He said this using his “I’m talking to my 8-year-old daughter” voice, then he gave me that patronizing once-over with his eyes while shaking his head sadly.
Well, sorry that I clearly did not know that. When I was in kindergarten, I wore a charm belt to school and one of the charms was A REVOLVER. Twenty-five years later, and I haven’t shot anyone. Yet.