If you haven’t yet read the post I put up about this week’s new Featured Bloggers?
Go do that. They are more than worth your time.
And now back to my regularly scheduled blogging . . .
I wrote the other day about Kallan’s preschool.
I had issues with some of the other moms.
Whatever.
I might be having trouble connecting, but Kallan loves her new school!
Kallan has a best friend at preschool named Sally. Sally is not this little girl’s actual name, but Sally’s mother may not be thrilled with this story. So for the purposes of this story? Kallan’s best preschool friend is named Sally.
Kallan and Sally do everything together at preschool, including get into trouble.
Kallan and Sally have trouble keeping their clothes on.
Sigh.
They don’t run around the room naked or anything, but the teacher finds them in the bathroom wearing one another’s clothing. Or in a state of undress as this clothing trade is being accomplished. Or going to the bathroom with their shirts off.
So I have talks with my daughter and Sally’s mom has talks with her daughter.
I also have a talk with the teacher. I am annoyed that there is so little supervision that these two little girls are able to sneak off into the bathroom and get naked. How is no one noticing this? Stupid incompetent preschool staff.
Annoying.
So I raise a little bit of a stink. Demand better supervision of the girls. Ask that they not be allowed to use the bathroom together.
And the naked stops.
The preschool is a large open room with several distinct areas in which the children can do different activities. Arts and crafts stations, blocks, trucks, dress-up, kitchen-play, letter and number practice, games.
There is also a reading castle.
The reading castle is a large painted plywood castle in which there are pillows and books. Kids who need a little bit of quiet can go in the castle and just hang out. The adults can see over the top of the castle if they step up to the wall, but the castle provides a certain amount of privacy to the children within.
Kallan and Sally love to play in this castle.
Lounge side by side on the big cushions. Kick their feet into the air. Read books.
It is lovely.
And then there comes a day when I come to pick Kallan up from school and she is wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt I do not recognize.
Yeah, that’s not good.
And the teacher rushes at me apologetically and speaks to me in hushed and mortified whispers.
Apparently, some boys in the class went into the castle and peed all over the castle’s cushions. And then Kallan and Sally went into the castle and threw themselves happily down onto the pee-soaked pillows to read. Both little girls were soaked in urine.
The teacher hands me a plastic bag with Kallan’s dirty clothing.
I am livid.
Are you fucking kidding me?
First Kallan and her friend are able to get naked in the bathroom without anyone noticing, and now boys are peeing in the reading castle? And no one is noticing?
What the fuck kind of lame-ass school is this?
OK, but Kallan is standing next to me in her weird ill-fitting outfit, all scared and tucked into my leg. So I take a deep breath and we go home. I toss Kallan in the bathtub.
I am just so fucking grossed out and angry.
I want the names of these nasty little boys. I want to know who has peed on my daughter. I want consequences, damn it. Nasty boys from nasty families with nasty parents who allow their kids to just pee wherever the fuck they like.
Peeing on my daughter. What the fuck?
After I calm down a bit, I call the school. Talk to the teacher. I demand that something be done about better supervising the children. I demand that windows be cut into the sides of the castle. Or that a wall be removed from the plywood castle.
This cannot be allowed to happen again.
I simply cannot continue to send my daughter to a school at which there is a risk that she will sit innocently down to read a book and end up covered in another child’s urine.
I am not going to stand for this crap.
I am not a happy parent.
Things had better change.
The teacher assures me that she has spoken to the parents of the boys involved. She refuses to tell me their names. She doesn’t need to . . . the co-op preschool rumor mill goes into overdrive. By the end of the week, I know the names of the two disgusting little boys.
The mother of one of these little boys approaches me and apologizes for the incident.
The mother of the other little boy says nothing, and I hate her forever.
Seriously.
I consider pulling Kallan out of the preschool. But Kallan loves this preschool. Kallan loves her best friend Sally.
And the teacher promises that the situation has been addressed.
OK, shit happens. As much as I would like for my daughter not to have been soaked in nasty-boy pee? Kallan does not seem to have been traumatized by the event.
I take a deep breath and move on.
But don’t imagine for a minute that I forget.
Kallan attended that preschool for two years, and I did not forget.
Kallan is 9 years old now.
We’re all sitting in the living room the other day, and the subject of preschool comes up. Maj talks fondly of her preschool teacher and then she snorts with laughter, “Hey, Kallan! Remember when you and Sally got into trouble for getting naked at your preschool?”
Kallan giggles, “Yes! And remember how Sally and I peed in the reading castle that one time and got pee all over our clothes and so we said the boys did it so we wouldn’t get into trouble?”
Wait . . . what?
What . . . the . . . fuck?
I stare at Kallan incredulously and she stops giggling.
She looks at me, “You knew that, didn’t you? I thought I told you that.”
What . . . the . . . fuck?
So the nasty child with the nasty parent who allowed her child to pee wherever the fuck she liked?
Turns out that nasty child was named Kallan.
And that nasty parent?
That would be me.
Fuck.
My favorite part is “Oh, I told you that didn’t I?” So innocent & sure of the fact she clued you in to her shenanigans.
Sigh.
Kallan drives me insane.
Ha! The Kallan stories just keep getting better!
Or worse, depending on your perspective.
It is so annoying to know that after all these years of feeling judgy and superior?
I was the mom of the icky peeing kid.
Sigh.
Oh I love this.
“I thought I told you.”
In related notes, my *almost* 3-year-old has taken up licking. This is her latest habit, sneaking up to people and licking them. She licked my cheek yesterday.
If you ever need Maj licked? I’ve got your girl.
Seriously, Kallan is the devil.
And if Maj ever needs to freaked all the fuck out and her sister is not available to do the honors?
I will call you.
So funny.
Dead. On. The. Floor.
Fuck, indeed.
Kallanesque will someday be a household adjective.
Kallan is indeed . . .
So very Kallanesque.
My middle sister felt like drawing on the wall one day and in her evil genius way decided to write our baby sister’s name on the wall so she wouldn’t get caught. Baby sister totally got blamed. Middle sister still cracks up about it!
Oh my god.
I blogged once about Kallan doing something very similar.
She wrote on the wall . . .
“Maj did tihs. Maj did tihs.”
Snort!
Maj was not the sort to misspell the word “this.”
Fantastic. I saw that coming a little.
But still. Fantastic.
I had already tagged a previous post with the news that Kallan was an asshole at this preschool.
No way a regular reader of Pretty All True thinks Kallan is an innocent victim.
Ever.
If only I had been reading Pretty All True back then.
I would have seen this coming as well.
Sigh.
Cam is right. Kallanesque will catch on.
Kris, you have your hands full with that one. I can’t wait to see what she pulls when she gets older. I bet you can.
The fact that she tried to act like she told you? Pure evil genius. I have only recently mastered that skill.
Kallan is an evil genius.
I am doomed.
Seriously.
Doomed.
LOL Eldest child took a pushpin out of wall poster and wrote/scoured her name in the wall paper… and so she wouldn’t get into trouble did the same with the younger child’s name too!!
“What’s this Erin”
“Alannah did it”
“Really? That’s the story you want to go with”
“yep”
“ok”
Alannah is 3 months old!!! BUSTED!!!
See my comment above in reply to Lindsay.
“Maj did tihs.”
Snort!
Oh my goodness. You are freakin hilarious!!! I’ve been reading your blog for a couple weeks now, and figured I’d quit acting stalker-ish and leave you a comment for once.
Seriously burst out laughing at the part where you put “the mother of the other little boy says nothing, and I hate her forever.”
Hello, used-to-be lurker!
Nice to meet you!
Love you!
I have a story about Child A and underpants, but it is too long here.
Plus I’ve decided I have a pathological problem with telling stories in your comments.
It’s totally your fault, of course, ’cause you make me think of them.
But I really do need to take responsibility for the actual typing out of them, because I’m not sure that’s anyone’s problem but mine.
But I read parts of this out loud to Himself.
Who cracked up.
Man . . .
I love when you blog in my comments!
Hmmmph.
I want to hear about the underpants!
Setting: England, where children at all grades 1)wear uniforms, and 2)change for PE. Young children all change together in the classroom. Because of the uniforms and the changing, all clothes need labels. Child A’s clothing has labels, but he didn’t know that.
I was at the first parent meeting with all the parents and the teacher reminds parents to please sew labels into the clothes. “We had an incident yesterday where one little boy claimed two pairs of trousers, and another was left sitting in nothing but his pants.” (pants = underwear.)
My brain went, uh oh…
The meeting wrapped up, and the teacher said, “Oh, Mrs. B!” And I went, “sighhhhh….”
Turns out Child A was the one hoarding trousers, leaving others sitting shivering in their skivvies.
I suppose, though, that’s better than being the one sitting there in your underpants.
Oh, thank you for that!
The thought of your son with two pairs of clearly labeled pants while another boy has zero pants?
That is just so awesome.
Thank you!
yay! I love it when Lori blogs in your comments too! Ha!
Lori is awesome.
Swoon!
Gah. I SO hate it when shit like that happens. So hate it.
I kinda thought that might have been what happened (before I got to the end, I mean) because I have often been (and still occasionally am…*cough*…) a wee bit on the judgy side. A tad. And usually? That shit bites me in the ass big time.
Stupid kids, anyway.
I am not usually all that judgy.
Ahem.
But this kind of shit always comes back to bite me in the ass.
Stupid children.
Why can’t I ever just get to be superior?
Annoying.
Amen. Exactly. I just want my little moment of superiority, dammit.
Hmph.
Oh? And to the comment below?
I have a boy…and he (so far) is way easier than the girl.
Way. Easier.
I knew it!
Boys are easier.
Pretty sure.
Of course, now having said that? This little sperm roulette game I’m playing?
Will totally end up as a girl.
Sigh.
Yup.
Because this?
Like everything else?
Will come back to bite you on the ass.
Snort!
imagine if you had boys!!!
Yes . . . imagine.
That would be way easier.
Pretty sure.
I don’t know if I agree that boys are easier. I call my son an alien because I have absolutely no understanding of what motivates him. He’s wired funny, that’s for sure. My daughter, on the other hand, while she’s very strong willed, has been the easier child to raise.
My theory is that it might be an eldest/youngest thing. Eldest children are the easier, more responsible ones? And the youngest not so much? Of course, that doesn’t play out with my sister and I at all. So I haven’t a clue. None. Just muddling through this mom thing best I can. And hoping for the best…or at least not the worst.
Oh my goodness! What a brilliant manipulator. And so young.
Yep. Doomed. You are.
Yes.
Doomed.
I am.
I’m beginning to wonder, do I put my kid into preschool where children’s peeing may or may not be supervised? Thanks for making me question my decisions.
Maybe I should screen the parents of her potential classmates and see if I see any similar qualities to say one particularly talented and humorous blogger. Hmmmm.
Are you screening people like me in?
Or out?
Snort!
OMG… can your kids get any funnier? I’m seriously howling.
My children are awesome blog material.
Sometimes not so fun in real life.
But they are awesome blog material.