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Saturday, March 9, 2013

An Email from My Son's Teacher


     My son has this amazing imagination.  Ever since he started talking he's told stories.  One was about his dad rolling him down a giant hill in a trash can.  That one he told his sister and I on the way home from  preschool one day.  

      In Kindergarten his class made books of what they wanted for Christmas.  They had to cut out pictures for this project.  My son managed to find a mug of beer in the stack of newspaper ads they were using and cut it out.  His teacher asked him if he wanted beer for Christmas and he said no, it was for his dad because his dad likes to drink a lot of beer.  Ok, then.  Yes, both his parents drink beer, but not so much we'd ask for it for Christmas.  At least that one has some truth to it, unlike the story he told his first grade teacher.


     I was eating my lunch at my desk one day, checking my email when I saw there was an email from my son's first grade teacher.  So, here I am trying to enjoy a very bland lunch, munching on some nondescript sandwich as I open the email and begin to read.  I almost choked from laughter.

     It seems that the teacher had read a story in which the main character had an experience that scared him.  Like all good teachers she was hoping to get her students to make a personal connection to the story so she asked the class if anyone had every had a scary experience.  I'm sure she was expecting episodes of being afraid of monsters in closets and under beds or maybe even fender bender incidents. Ha!


      My son raises his hand and the poor woman called on him.  He proceeded to tell her this lengthy story about the time his family was sound asleep and robbers broke into the house.  They locked the dog in a closet and overtook his dad who had grabbed a baseball bat.  They made all of us go into the garage and tied up his mom and dad and duck taped out mouths.  They then stole our computer and TVs and left us there.  He and his sister could not untie his parents so they had to call 911 to get help with that.

     His teacher was so mortified and scared she felt the need to email me and ask if my son might benefit from sessions with the school counselor.  She wondered if there was anything else she could do for us or if the school community could help in some way.



     I really tried not to laugh and I'm so glad she did not tell me this in person because I am not sure I'd been able to control my laughter and the poor woman was so worried.  No, robbers never broke into our house at night or during the day.  Our dog was never locked in a closet.  Even if robbers had broken in my husband would not have had a baseball bat because it would have been downstairs and there would have been no way to get to it with robbers in the house.  

     I really hope that if robbers did break in and tie me up and duck tape my mouth they would do it some place more comfortable than the garage.  Every computer and television we've ever had has only left the house under our own wishes.  And, 911 has only been dialed from this house the time a teenage boy screeched through the stop sign across the street, slammed into the streetlight in front of our house and knocked it over into our yard.  Which happend  when my son was older than first grade.


     After I recovered and was able to stop choking on my sandwich I composed an email that I really hoped did not convey the hilarity I felt.  His teacher was very understanding and at some point that year we devised a plan to help her know when he was making up stories or telling factual events.  He had to put his finger on his nose when he was telling a story.

     He still tells stories, but so far that's the best one.  




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10 comments:

  1. Oh my! That's some imagination your guy has. I think he's going to be giving you lot's of blog fodder over the years. I'd start carrying around a voice recorder just to capture some of his tales.

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    1. Very good idea. I actually have one on my phone.

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  2. (I removed above post because it wasn't a reply to Vanessa's. I typed it in the wrong place)

    Sounds like your guy will be doing some imaginative blogging or creative writing of his own before long. Your post reminded me of the time I went to pick up my own then-three-year-old son at day care. He looked straight at me and said very clearly and seriously, "You're not my mommy!" Fortunately someone on the staff knew me ...

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    1. I would agree with you about the blogging if he didn't struggle so much with it. However, his latest story at school was a very romantic one about a witch that became good and fell in love. He's my little Casanova.

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  3. That is too funny. I loved how the teacher believed him. If she asked him if this story was really true, would he have told her no? Man, my kids lack imagination! New follower here.

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    1. He probably would have told her it was true. He hates when I tell this story, too. Luckily both my kids have creative sides.

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  4. that's fantastic! I imagine we'll have some stories to tell like that with my 5yo - she has a VERY vivid imagination! (and thanks for telling me how to shrink my blog back down to normal size - things like this happen when I don't close the laptop before going to the bathroom!!)

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    1. You're welcome. I have to use that a lot. The school I work at has netbooks for all the students and 2nd graders are forever "accidentally" making their screens too big or too small. Problem is, once they see how it's done they want to just play with it.

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  5. Sounds like you have a budding writer/actor in your son...too funny!

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    1. If nothing else he'll keep the girls entertained! LOL!

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