"I don't know" with a shrug of the shoulders.
The words blood and stone spring to mind.
I have learnt to leave well alone and during the evening I get a trickle of glimpses of the 4 year old's day.
Gone are the days when I knew my children's every move.
I remember fondly a time when I could chart the bowel movements of my children and regale them to my husband when he returned from work.
Oh, those were the days.
One of the things I always want to know is what she's eaten for lunch. Mainly because when I'm serving dinner I always seem to be in line with the school kitchens. I serve spag bol, she had it for lunch. I serve lasagne, she had it for lunch and so on and so forth. Whether this is the truth or just my daughter being 4 I am not sure.
As I picked the 4 year old up from school today I got a waft of garlic ...
Me - "Have you been eating garlic?"
My pedantic daughter replied all matter of fact, as only she can ...
Her - "No Mum, it's not garlic, it's garlic bread."
So, tonight over dinner I asked the 3 year old what he did at pre-school. He is always happy to give explicit details in his own special way ...
Him - "I climbed on David* ... eat buns ... had poo ... bikes and sing songs with lady".
The buns bit is his daily lie, he tell me this part with a mischievous grin so I will say in mock horror "Buns?" to which he says "Noooooo" with a giggle. It's one of those little things that he never seems to tire of.
The 4 year old feeling left out and pondering whether to share her day starts up with ...
Her - Do you want to know what I did with my lunch?
At this point I get excited thinking I'm going to get hard information ...
Me - Yes, what did you do?
Her - I ate it.... and that is all I get.
My son climbed on David, didn't eat buns, had a poo, rode a bike and sang songs.
My daughter ate her lunch which involved garlic bread.
Maybe I should be grateful for any information at all?
Imagine the conversation David and his Mum were having.
* Names have as usual being changed to protect the, in this case poor, innocent David