Yesterday, after picking Jenson up from his second ever morning at kinder, I had more than one giggle to myself at the stories being told to me about how his morning had gone.
There was the story about how it was his birthday today at kinder and he had given everyone a lollipop.
There was a story about how a boy had given him a birthday present of a pirate sword and hat and telescope, but he didn't want to show me so he left at kinder.
There was the story about he didn't do anything all day at kinder. He didn't play with play-doh, he didn't paint, he didn't even play with the dinosaurs in the water. All he did was sit on a chair and waited for a lollipop. Kinder goes for 3 hours. The likelihood of him sitting on a chair that whole time is fairly slim.
But my favourite story was one that happened last week, while I was in New Zealand. This was his first kinder session without me being with him. He was very excited about it, and he knew what to expect. Johnny dropped him off in the morning, settled him in to playing in the sandpit and left him to it. When Johnny returned a few hours later he was asked by the kindergarten staff what our son's name was. Apparently Jenson had told them, on a number of occasions, in a very adamant voice and with a very straight face, "My name's not Jenson, I'm Reece". The teachers were all kinds of confused. Checking the sign in book, checking all of his clothes and bag labels, checking the paperwork, yet still being told "I'm Reece!".
When I quizzed him on it yesterday morning, he told me when he gets to kinder, he turns into Reece. Thankfully there was no confusion yesterday, and it was Jenson at kinder.
I'm looking forward to hearing more stories next week.
Do you have a story teller in your family?