Nothing Happens at School

Image: luigi diamanti / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

The events of the school day always amuse me.  In an average school day, nothing much seems to happen.  I know this for certain, because my children tell me so, each and every day that they come home from school.   You know how it goes.

Mum “Did anything nice happen at school today.”
Child “Nothing much.”

Mum ” Did you have gym, or language.
Child “I told you mum, nothing happened.”

Mum “So you went to school, you didn’t do any work, you didn’t see any friends, you didn’t eat any lunch, and you haven’t got any homework.”
Child “Haven’t I just told you that.”

This is one of the universal truths that I seem to come across with boys, and not just my boys.  I have heard of a few boys who do actually go home and tell their parents how the day goes, but in general, most of us parents of boys seem to get the same answer.  Girls on the other hand, seem to me, to tell their mothers what happens day to day and piece by piece. 

That got me to thinking back to whether I was like that as a child.   I made myself a coffee and sat down to relax.
 
“Did I always tell my mother nothing happened at school.” I asked myself.  “No” I convince myself, as my mother and I were ‘friends’.   And there we are.  I am as smug as a bug in a rug that I was right about the boy/girl divide in school nothingness.

Grandma was here at the end of the school day today, and as I brought the boys through the door, she puts on a great big smile.

“What happened at school today boys, come and tell me all about it.”  I hear this and think that there will be no reply to it.   I wait for a few seconds and I am not disappointed. 

“Nothing, nothing much, that’s boring,”  come the replies.

 This is repeated a few times and grandma throws her hands up in the air and exclaims.  ” They’re just like you were at that age, they never tell anyone anything.”  And with that, off she flounces to the kitchen to put the kettle on in exasperation.

My first thought was “wow, no wonder no-one tells her anything,” then I remember how I act when my boys walk in the door, and I realise that I do exactly the same when I get exactly the same answer. 

Like mother like daughter.  Who?  Me?  No.