Last week, Grand Master H was finally able to make his triumphant return to preschool. This was not easy for him. He had grave doubts about returning after his cold, aka, the cold that would not die.
Despite his misgivings (tears, threats, tantrum and rage), he returned. His teachers were thrilled to see his little face and that helped all of his fears disappear. Also, they have a trampoline, so he feels like he has died and gone to heaven.
And so, dear readers, we have another report from the trenches.
Act One (in the car on the ride home)
Me to Mr. Smith: It hardly seems like the same Grand Master H I dropped off at school a few hours ago.
H from the back seat: Nope, that Grand Master H is gone. He is in the landfill.
Act Two (at home)
Me: What did you do in school today?
Grand Master H: I can't tell you.
Me: What?!
Grand Master H: That's what you get when I don't get a surprise.
Act Three (a few days later, when I am trying to get more information from Grand Master H, future CIA operative, about the violin portion of the curriculum)
Me: Did they teach you how to hold the violin?
Grand Master H: Yes.
Me: How do you hold it?
Grand Master H: With your chin.
Me: Right! What else?
Grand Master H: Is there a new Supah Ninjas on now?
Me: No.
Grand Master H: Oh.
Me: Did you hold the other part, what is it?
Grand Master H: Yes.
Me: The bow?
Grand Master H: Yes.
Me: What happens when you put the bow on the violin?
Grand Master H: It makes a LOUD noise!
Me: Yeah, do you know what that loud noise is called?
Grand Master H: No!
Me: MUSIC!
Grand Master H: No it isn't.
In other news, Grand Master H got his sister to help him clean up the never-ending mess that is our family room.
He did it again today, without a word from anyone.
So, the money for preschool is extremely well-spent. Amazing changes in such a short time.
On a completely unrelated front, here are some photos of the little monkeys blowing bubbles. I know you are just dying to see a whole mess of pictures of them romping on the patio.
