Preschool has been a treasure trove of puzzling stories and observations from Noah. Since his godmother is his teacher, it’s been an unspoken agreement that I will text her Noah’s version of the events of the day, and then she texts me back with what actually happened.

Disclaimer: Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Or not so innocent.

As Noah is an introvert, he is usually silent when I pick him up, and the stories start trickling out as the day goes on. But one day he was bursting to tell me this story, and started it before I even had him buckled in.

“There was something that looked like POOP in the middle of the floor!”
“What? What was it?”
“It was poop. Joe did it.”
“HOW did Joe POOP in the middle of the floor?!”
“He just did.”
“Did anyone see him?”
“No. He pooped in the middle of the floor though. No – wait. Miss Janey said it wasn’t poop. She said it was mud from the bottom of someone’s shoe.”

I really appreciated his storytelling cadence. He controlled the narrative to allow me to feel the moment alongside him – to experience the emotions of what he and his classmates must have felt while observing what they were sure was poop in their classroom.

Upon relaying this story to Miss Janey and asking how “Joe” managed to get blamed for it, she said that it was indeed mud, but that Joe had just come out of the classroom bathroom and announced that he had pooped.

I’m sure the smell wafting through really helped the storyline along.


This same “Joe” also seems to be good at telling fantastic stories. Last week, this was the report:

“I played with my favorite friend today, Joe.”
“Yeah? What did y’all talk about?”
“About the time he got run over by a train.”
“How exactly did he manage to do that?”
“He was standing on a train track.”
“I think he would be dead if that happened…”
“Nope. He didn’t get deaded and he didn’t even cry! He’s so brave.”


They have many classroom sayings that they repeat back and forth. I’ve learned a lot from these.

“GOODNESS GRACIOUS gray balls of fire!!”
”Um. Do you mean great balls of fire?”
”Pah! No!! Why would there be great balls of fire? It’s GRAY balls of fire.”

Another day, Noah explained,

“Miss Janey says ‘Ready to rock?’, and we have to answer, ‘Ready to roll!’”
”Where do you rock and roll to?”
”Well, hmm…..I rock in the rocking chair and roll in the car.”


We got home late for nap one day, and Noah said,

“I’m too tired to walk. I need you to carry me!”
”My hands are completely full. I can’t!”
”I guess I’ll have to lay down on my own shoulder, then.”

Noah Is Adorable

It almost worked.


Random deep thoughts by Noah.…

“I put it somewhere you will NEVER find it!!! In my room. Underneaf my bed.”

“I’m like a construction worker because construction workers has pants.”

“If I burp, that doesn’t mean I’m sick. That just means I’m excused.”

“I used to be a grownup but how I became a baby is that I got squooshed. I don’t remember what it was like to be a grownup.”


One day, I was trying to convey great truths to Noah.
”God made you special. Did you know that?”
”I don’t want to be special – I want to be cool. God made me just…cool. Race cars are cool.”


A neighbor we’d never met was walking by our house one day. He stopped to talk, and after a few minutes, he turned to Noah and said, “How old are you?”

Noah answered forlornly, “Not old enough for bubblegum….”

Cynical and cryptic. It runs in the family.

For the record, I’d allowed him to try bubblegum a few days before. It went like this.

“Okay. You can try this. But don’t swallow it.”
”Okay Mommy!”
Two seconds later, it was gone.
”Did you swallow your gum?”
”No!”
”Well where is it?”
”In my tummy.”
”So you swallowed it.”
”I DIDN’T SWALLOW IT! I bited it.”
”Did it go down your throat?”
”No! It went in my teeth.”

After about four rounds of this, I told him “I don’t think you’re old enough for bubblegum yet.”

And ever since, that statement has defined his existence.


From the backseat, Noah had a brilliant idea.

“If you died when it was dark then Daddy wouldn’t have to go to work the next day! That’s a good plan.”


Finally, a couple of deep thoughts from Ali…

 

“Noah’s more of a silly than a jokester because most of his jokes are just yelling ‘poopy’.”

“I really love the new superpower I’ve discovered that I possess. I can see through the windows of cars and look at the people inside!”

“Do you think that reading the words on grave stones would give me ideas for my Christmas List?”

Ali: “We’re going to the mall!”

Noah: “Is it like a store?”

Ali: “No – it’s the Store of Stores – just like the King of Kings!”

11 thoughts on “What’s That Sound, Volume Five

  1. I’m jealous that you have a translator of preschool stories to set you straight! We just have to wonder what actually happened. These are hilarious. The other day my almost 3 year old was upset that I didn’t start reading the book fast enough. He turns to me and says, “mommy, you talk to the book!”.

  2. I can’t sit next to Ali during Kids Church. Since I’m a grown-up, she thinks it’s okay to break the rule “don’t talk to anyone”. She will talk the entire time. Seriously. Apparently I’m not intimidating enough. I love to talk to her, don’t get me wrong. But she gets me in trouble with the Jawoo.

    1. This cracked me up! I can totally see her doing it. It’s probably my fault – I realized that during Noah’s Christmas play, when I told her to be quiet, but I kept whispering explanations to her. Then she’d start talking and I’d tell her to be quiet….

      She doesn’t understand that Adult’s Prerogative only goes one way.

  3. I Like these posts.

    I don’t like cleaning up gum so my kids will be old enough for it when they move out, but they still swallow things they shouldn’t. I was flossing my 2 yr old daughter’s teeth and gave her the floss when I was done so I could deal with another child real quick and when I turned back there was no floss. I asked her where it went and, sure enough, she pointed to her mouth. She had swallowed it. This is the result of a weird mother who loves to floss, I suppose, but it’s no fun to find that swallowed floss later.

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