Don't be fooled by the cuteness . . .
We had really good Chinese take out for dinner tonight. Mine was a little too salty to eat, however.
Probably due to the copious amount of tears I was shedding on it.
Just don't give me bad news right before dinner because it totally wrecks food.
And I like food.
So what's the emergency this time, you ask?
What's so terrible, Tapper?
I'll tell ya.
I am officially that mother.
I was blissfully unaware that I was that mother a few hours ago.
The Dancer came home and told me that little blonde girl was mean to her today.
And I asked what little blonde girl did.
And the Dancer told me that little blonde girl said she hated her.
Insert mommy gasp, please.
So I sat at my computer and penned a very judicious inquiry letter to the teacher.
Dear wonderful teacher,
The Dancer came home worried today. I know that things can get lost in translation when children are four, but she is under the impression that little blonde girl said she hated her.
I am very concerned. Please let me know if you know anything about the situation.
Or thereabouts. You get the jist.
Then I got the email reply.
Dear Tapper, (AKA that mother)
I am unaware that little blonde girl said anything of the sort. They were in separate groups all day. However, while we are communicating, we had to talk to the Dancer about how she treats her friends today. She would not let a friend pass by her even when he said excuse me. She uncrossed her legs and got off her mat three times at circle time. We are discussing how to be kind and loving.
Thank you for communicating.
Sniffle sniffle. Good bye teryaki and honey-seared chicken. Hello Kleenex.
My child is that kid! They had to discuss how to be kind and loving!!!
Quick side note to teacher: I haven't stopped discussing being kind and loving since they cut the umbilical cord. This is not a neglected subject in my home.
But apparently it is not a successful subject in my home.
I can live with the poor girl forgetting to sit criss cross apple sauce (that is the stupidest thing. Can't we just call it Indian Style like we used to?) but being mean... really? Really?
Seeing the teacher tomorrow should be barrels and barrels of fun.
I think home school just sounded good to me for the first time ever.