B. Our Guest

The Boy and I were discussing his day when he told me the following.

TB: I read a chapter book to Mr. B. today.
Me: That’s nice.  Who’s Mr. B.?
TB: The man I read the chapter book to.
Me: But who is Mr. B.?  Is he a teacher there?  What does he teach?
TB: He’s not a teacher.  He’s a guest.
Me: But why was he there?
TB: Because he was a guest.
Me: Does he teach something?  Is he a teacher someplace else?
TB: He’s not a teacher.  He’s a guest.
Me: But why was he there?
TB: Because he was a guest.
Me: What did he do at school today?
TB: He listened to me read a chapter book to him.  He was a guest.
Me: Oh, he was a guest.
TB: Yes. A guest.
 

How silly of me to think anything different.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s