10 Reasons Why I Think My Preschooler is in the CIA

Dear parents of preschoolers,

I’ve been dealing with this myself, but now I must share my concerns:
I believe my daughter’s preschool is a top secret early CIA program.
Think about it: they are in school for at least 5 hours a day! But what do you really know about what they are doing?

They are very clever, but I have figured it out.

1) They Do “Stuff”
I recently asked my 3 ½ year old (whose vocabulary includes the words “actually,” “think,” and “happy”) about her day.
Me: What did you do at preschool?
Her: We did lots of stuff and then we did more stuff.
Me: Um, OK.

2) She’s Sworn to a Code of Silence
Ask me about my day and I won’t shut up. My daughter? Not a word about school, but she’ll chatter endlessly about Dora’s adventures.

3) Photos are Verboten
All the school photos show her with her eyes cast down.
Very suspect. Because. She. Never. Looks. Directly. Into. The. Camera.

4) Circle Time = Bad Behavior Explored
I have a theory that in circle time the kids learn how to use scenarios of unacceptable behavior to assess our empathy levels.
Me: What happened in circle time?
Her: “Bob cried.”
Me: ::Thinking:: I know this boy and he seems a hardy type. “Why?”
Her: “He missed his mommy.”
Repeated plaintively, staring me down. “He missed his mommy!”
Well-played daughter.

5) Are LEGOS Legit?
Indulge me and ponder the concept of LEGOS for a moment. They are in every preschool. For what purpose? Why/what do children need to build so badly, and who needs them to build it? Is there a secret LEGO-building factory that they are a part of?

Ask yourself that question… I do.

6) She Has a Double
Her teachers say my daughter is polite, social and empathetic.
Obviously, a double is acting on her behalf. How else to explain the “Goldfish Crackers Caper” when she went batshit crazy for ONE HOUR AND A HALF over her overwhelming need for This. One. Specific. Food.
A demand repeated over and over in an endless litany that felt as long as my pregnancy was.

7. Unexplainable Stains
One day an orange stain confounds me.
Me: “Did you use orange paint?”
Her: “No. Green.”
Me: “Um. Did you eat an orange?”
Her (yelling): “No.”
I’ve come to question my very sanity.

8. Snack Time Syndrome
I’ve figured out the code for snack time is “give the grownups something.”
Her: “No more yogurt mommy.”
Me: “But you like yogurt.”
Her: “Mommy. You need to be a good listener. No. More. Yogurt.”
At least she’s sharing info…

9. They Won’t Relinquish Their Backpacks
The backpacks must contain top-secret information. My daughter won’t let it leave her body. Once home, she keeps it arm’s length away from her for the rest of the day.

10. They Carry Weapons
Although my daughter goes to a nut-free school, every morning she fights to hold on to a tiny piece of a toxic-to-other-kids breakfast bar.
For what nefarious reasons does she need to protect herself?

Let me leave you with one last thought–I believe that Nap Time =Mind Control Sessions.

That’s the next conspiracy I plan to uncover. Who’s with me?

About the Author

Estelle Sobel Erasmus is an award-winning journalist, blogger, columnist who writes about how she went from dating diva to married lady to older mom in the blink of an eye on her blog Musings on Motherhood and Mid-Life. She is a 2012 Top 10 Circle of Moms Winner for Top 25 Family Blogs by a Mom, was a 2012 BlogHer Voice of the Year, and was in the original 2012 production of Listen to Your Mother.

 

 

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Comments

  1. You know… I think you may be on to something. I would add that they try to force us to eat unimaginable concoctions in an effort to poison us…

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    • Estelle says:

      HI Kristen,
      Thanks for commenting. I would be curious to know what those concoctions might be? Perhaps an experiment in the making to discern our responses under extreme conditions?
      Estelle

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  2. Very possible. And as they get older you won’t get much more out of them. Mine are in elementary school & I still don’t know what the hell they do in there.

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  3. ZR says:

    #8 made me crack up. Almost cried.

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