Who's your daddy?

Took Godzilla to kinder. Kinder teacher not there, which always unsettles me slightly. Despite the fact that he’s been perfectly ok since halfway through week two of going.

Went for big walk on way home, got some work done and went to pick him up.

Only 3.7 minutes late today.

As we were leaving (not many other parents or kids around – whoops) the kinder assistant says “Your son. He is only ever trouble when the kinder teacher isn’t here.”

Oh, dear, I begin to worry. What has he done now?

Apparently, he just likes to make things difficult. And with his strange little four year old mind, he manages to do it well.

It was “making something for Father’s Day” time, as most kindergartens do at this time of year. They were making a lovely card that said “My dad is the best dad in the whole world because …” and the assistant asked the kids why their dad was the best in the world, and she transcribed it for them.

She sits down with Godzilla and asks the question. “No, I don’t have a daddy!”

“Yes you do,” she replies. “I’ve seen him.”

“No. I doesn’t have a daddy.”

Thinking she can get one over him – more fool her – she asks “Well, who is Grumpy. The man that brings you in sometimes.”

“Dat’s my bruvvers daddy. I hasn’t got a daddy. I has a mummy, but I hasn’t got a daddy.”

By this stage, the poor woman was tearing out her hair and wondering why she ever considered spending her days with small children was a good idea.

Eventually she got an answer out of him. And go him to draw a picture of his daddy on the card.

(Godzilla drew a monster)

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