Digging for Details

Ethan, who is typically a man of many, many words, is tight-lipped when it comes to sharing the details about his days in Ms. K's class. We are only three days into school and already battle lines are being drawn between the two of us as I struggle to get him to eek out even the smallest and most minor detail while he struggles to do his best to pretend not to remember (or at least make the prying painful enough for me to give up and find something else to do). He obviously hasn't figured out how stubborn his mother is, but I refuse to surrender. Even if it means bribing him with a variety of rewards in exchange for him to drop a few tidbits about his day. Yesterday, I bribed him with an offer to clean up the crayons he'd left scattered on the floor, which he immediately took me up on. Today was a particularly lonely day for me and because of my desperation for details of how he spent his day, I offered up an extra 20 minutes playing the WII. (Worked like a charm). Sadly, I'm not even ashamed of my underhanded tactics. But the following dialogue is what I was able to coax out. It may not look like much, but let me assure you friends, this was some pretty intense questioning.

Me: What was the first thing you did this morning at school?

E: Lots of sighing and hmmming. More hmming and sighing. And finally, "I'm not sure." Okaaaay.

After a long pause he remembers that they colored.

Me: What did you color?

E: "A house and some trees with an owl peeking out and the sky and the sunset. That's what I colored." So it's not that he CAN'T remember the details..

Me: What did you do after coloring?

"Uh. Let me think. Do I have to tell you or can I just think?" And then, after a pleading look from me, " Well, I think we went to a center! I think I went to the block area."

Me: What did you do after centers?

E: "Hm. Good question. I think we went to the media center." And then in an effort to stave off my next line of questioning, he adds, "And I DEFINITELY do not know what we did after the media center."

Me: Not about to be outmaneuvered, I say, What did you do IN the media center?

E: "The lady [I can only assume this is the librarian] read a book to us, but somebody scribbled the pages. So the lady couldn't read it. So she just stopped reading it because she said she couldn't see the words and she didn't read us another book."

Okay, is it just me, or does this librarian sound like she could use a nice stiff margarita in exchange for her mid-morning coffee?

Me: What did you have for lunch?

E: "Okay. Um. (Clicks tongue). Eh. Um. Uhhhh. Remember I told you I had chips and cheese and those little bumpy sausage things. Yeah, the bumpies. And pears. And chocolate milk. And that's it."

(long pause)

"And I think I had something else."

"Oh! I remember. That little cherry icy. And that's it. That's all I had for lunch. Hey! Are you writing down what I am saying!?"

Busted.