I have a little story to share with you. Once upon a time, there was a little boy. Because of the
vibrant color of his hair, he was called Red. Red liked to run and jump. He
liked to race and holler. Red did not like to sit or wait. He did not like to
be told what to do. Red especially did not like to be told to sit and wait.
One day Red’s mother took him to a place called preschool.
Red recognized the place! He remembered running down the halls chasing after
his friend. Red and his friend used to tell each other jokes and laugh and
laugh. Sometimes the teacher would separate them, but that was okay. They had so
much fun!
Red waited excitedly for his friend to arrive. He was
getting impatient. Where was he? Before Red caught sight of his friend, the
teacher called him to the classroom. He lined up behind the other children,
confident his friend would arrive soon. Finally, Red saw his friend, but he was
walking into another classroom!
His friend was being silly, Red thought, pretending like he
did not know where he was going. Red tugged on his mother’s sleeve to share
the joke. Then Red was confused. His mommy was telling him that his friend was
assigned to a different classroom. She must be in on the joke, he thought. But,
no, her face looked very serious.
Red was not happy about this. He was not happy at all. Red decided
that he felt grumpy about going to school and he told his mother so. He
grumpily ignored her as she said encouraging things. He tried to pull his mommy back out to the car,
but she sternly told him to knock it off. Red stopped pulling, but he decided
to add being scolded to the list of things he felt grumpy about. He grumpily
washed his hands, grumpily dried them, and then made his way to his spot on the
rug, grumpily.
The grumpiness did not last long. Red is generally a happy
and confident little boy and most bad moods pass quickly. True to his nature, he
was soon making the best of the situation and the majority of the preschool day
passed pleasantly enough in a blur of blocks, stories, and songs.
Red was right in the middle of building a sweet Lego
creation when his teacher announced it was time for a snack. He felt so excited
about snack time that he almost did not mind abandoning his partly-finished
Space Trooper Scooter Mobile…almost. Then the unthinkable happened. His teacher
told the class that, before the snacks would be passed out, everyone must find
their seat on the rug and wait quietly to be called to the snack tables.
What?!
Red was outraged. More sitting? More waiting? Red did not
like to sit. He did not like to wait. Red especially did not like to be told to
sit and wait.
What did Red do? Did he yell? Did he ignore the teacher and
continue to build with Lego?
No.
Red went to his space on the carpet. Red sat quietly. He
communicated his displeasure with the situation peacefully, but communicate his
displeasure he surely did.
Red shat his pants.
Red said “I shit on your quiet-on-the-carpet-time” in the
best way he knew how—by literally shitting on the carpet. Quietly.
Unfortunately, this little story is no fairytale. It is
true. And it happened to me. Red is the fruit of my womb. Yay me.
We have since removed Red from preschool. The Husband and I
decided that Red could use a little time to mature to a level where he can more
appropriately handle the “rigors” of four-year-old preschool curriculum. So Red gets a gap
year. The hope is that, when he returns to preschool next year, he will have
found a way to express his frustration that does not involve feces. If not, we
are going to have to look into schooling options where it is considered “normal”
to communicate with poo. Possibly the primate center at the zoo. I wonder if they have a football team?
