Mark and I have joked that we expect to get lots of calls from the school about Nick. Well, the first one rolled in on Friday. Evidently, Nick and his buddies are roughhousing too much at recess and had been talked to about it. And talked to about it. And talked to about it, until it was time to call the parents. To be honest, it was a relief to talk to an adult about the situation. If you know Nick, you know he has a vivid imagination and tends to embellish on real events. He had already copped to the fighting when retelling his days at school, but we couldn't figure out if it was play or if he was getting beat up by other kids...or if any of it was really happening at all. Sounds like it's all in fun--but, of course not appropriate for school. I was slightly annoyed only because we JUST asked his teacher about this at his conference on Wednesday. She told us Nick was no problem at all and she hadn't seen any rough behavior. I'll give her two passes on this, however, because 1) seems this is at recess and maybe the supervisor hadn't reported it to her 2) there are some particularly rowdy and rough kids in the class, so maybe Nick just pales in comparison. Of course we had a sit-down with Nick Friday night, and hopefully we got through to him.
However, this behavior may be the least of our worries, because then came Saturday morning...
I get back from the grocery store and Mark says, "did you see my text?" I pull out my phone and read, "Nick just dropped the f bomb. Elaine said that he learned it from you. He said he learned it from (friend who I will not mention by name, so as not to drag another kid on my blog)." I am happy to report two things:
1) He did NOT learn it from me--and neither did Elaine. I forgot to switch off my podcast when picking up the kids last week and when I started the car, the very first word to spring from the speakers was an emphatic "f***." THAT was what Elaine was referencing when she said he learned it from me.
2) Mark said when he talked to Nick, he really didn't seem to understand that it was
that bad to say it. In his mind, it was the same as calling someone "stupid."
Unfortunately, we had some out-of-town guests over last night and their 5-year-old son also has been using the f-word. Before you know it, Lainey comes running up the stairs all-to-happy to tell Mark that Nick just said "the word" again. It's lucky for Nick that the other parents had freely discussed their son's "experimentation." We allowed Nick an opportunity to explain the situation, and per Nick, "I didn't say it. I told
him he can't say 'f***ing'." We got crystal clear (I hope) with Nick that there is no situation where he should
ever use that word. If he's trying to tell a friend
not to say it, he
still can't use the
actual word.
So now I'm
way less concerned about getting a call about ninja fighting at recess, which is at least an age-appropriate offense with other willing participants. I'm now freaking out that I'll be getting a call from the office and every parent in the Kindergarten class over Nick's language.
Lainey may give us the fits at home, but Nick's going to be the one to turn my hair white...
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