What I learned at school yesterday

First (and it does make sense...follow me) I'm going to repost a comment from our own lovable Hot Toddy here:

I love that you said, "Y'all is not polite..."

You are prejudicing your child against everyone she will come into contact with on a daily basis. She will think everyone is being rude to her all day long. She will be so depressed that her relationship with Alex will crumble, and he will tell her, "I need to be with someone happy. This isn't working." To placate her grief, your daughter will steal your credit cards and go on a spending spree that would make Rob Byrnes look like a miser.

But at least she won't sound Southern.

That made me laugh. After all, the important point here is that she not sound Southern. And telling her that something isn't polite is the only way she'll listen to me. She has a highly developed sense of propriety.

So in the last few days, she's said "y'all" at least a dozen times. She even said it to my parents on the phone. As soon as she handed the phone to me, I got a good talking to.

I figured one of her friends at school said ya'll. Or maybe her teachers said it occasionally.

Then I got this note:

Dear Mr and Mrs Tuna,

Did ya'll accidentally get another students take-home folder? Ya'll can let me know any time."

Ack! A two-fer. And what's worse, she spelled it wrong! Does this woman not understand contractions? The apostrophe replaces the o and u, lady.

Then we went to the Back to School program last night. Every other word out of her teacher's mouth was y'all. Is this really what we're paying $6200 a year for? Egad!

Other than that though, she really is a wonderful teacher and we are very pleased.

But, noticeably absent were the parents of Alex. There was a picture board in the lobby with a photo of each child. My husband and I perused this board to try and find our future son-in-law. How curious. There is no Alex. We checked the other classroom, just in case, but there was no Alex to be found there either.

So, our little drama queen either completely fabricated this future spouse or she's inherited my husband's bad-with-names gene.

I learned a few things after school today too. First, my daughter is quite the sales person. She asked her Daddy, "Can we please go out to dinner tonight?" she added a few more "pleases" and a huge hug. He told her we'd think about it.

Five minutes later she's back. "Where did you and Mommy decide to take us to dinner, Daddy?"

I burst out laughing. She's quite the little closer.

When we were eating dinner, she suddenly said, "Today was the last day for my boyfriend to be the star of the week." My husband almost choked on his shrimp.

We had learned the night before that the star of the week was Andrew. Andrew really is a precious little child. My daughter has good taste.

"What happened to Alex?" my husband asked.

"There is no Alex, silly," she scolded him.

Yup. Damn that bad-name-gene.

And finally I learned that when your two-year-old doesn't want dessert and says that he is tired, has to poop, and has a tummy ache it actually means that he is going to throw up all over you when he gets home. And it won't phase him in the least. But your five-year-old will start crying. "I feel so sad for him."

Yeah great. Who feels sad for me, the mother covered in corn dog puke?