Everyday, I ask the same question, "How was school today?"
And everyday, I get the same answer, "It was good!"
Today though, she answered, "It was extra good, good, goodie! BUT...I had the worst recess of my life."
Ah, no, not the drama. It's not time. She's only seven. I'm not ready.
"What happened at recess?" I so don't want to go there but I'm imagining all sorts of horrors, her tripping and falling, breaking an arm, someone snatching her from the playground...oh wait, she's standing right here in front of me, all her limbs attached. All is well.
I really need to take something for that overactive imagination of mine.
Anyhow - so yes, it was the worst recess of her seven-year-old life, apparently.
"These boys were chasing, chasing, chasing me." She breathlessly answered, although the flush of her cheeks and the excitement of her tone did little to mask how she really felt about being chased by a gaggle of first grade boys.
And so, it begins...