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His lips are sealed.

Usually the Cheese Eater is a very talkative little fellow.  Bring up the topic of Lego building or his new favorite show "Scooby Doo" and he can go on and on.  But ask him a simple question like, "How was school today?" and he is at a total loss for words.

If I want to learn anything about what my child does for the three hours that he is at school, I have to be like one of the "CSI" detectives and try to solve the mystery of my son's school day with the small samples of evidence that I find lying around.

A green, construction paper snake, cut out and glued to a stop sign?  He must be learning about the letter "S".

A snack baggie with half of his grapes left?  He must have done more talking than eating during snack time.  Note to self: Ask the Cheese who he sat next to during snack time.

A little sand on the inside of his school shoes?  He must have played in the sandbox during recess.

Orange and black paint under his finger nails?  He must have done some kind of Halloween finger painting.

Yes, just a little mama detective work gave me more information about my child's school day than his words ever will.

Even when I get creative with my questions, believing that the more specific I am with the questions the better answers I will be, he barely speaks. 

"What was your favorite thing that you did at school today, Buddy?"

"Umm..." He was staring at his after-school snack, looking a little tired.  "Umm..."

I try again.  "Did you have a favorite thing today?"

"Nope."

Obviously not the best way to phrase the question, so I try again.  "Tell me something that made you smile today."

"Uhhh..." 

Not wanting to go down that same wordless road again, I quickly add to the question, "like something you did that made you really happy.  Tell me about that."

"Uhhh...RECESS!"

Yes, of course.  As long as there have been public schools, the favorite part of any kid's school day has been recess.  But when you're 5-years-old and in kindergarten, it's probably the truth.  This suddenly reminds me of the half-eaten bag of grapes that I found in his backpack.

"Who were you sitting next to during snack time?  Were you doing more talking than eating?"

"I didn't have time to finish.  I sat next to Kelly.  She's my girlfriend."

Whoa.  Now I suddenly had more information than I was planning on--and a whole new set of questions.

"That's who you sat next to?  During snack time?"

"Yeah."

"So what did you and Kelly talk about during snack time?"

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Buddy?"

He doesn't answer, just sighs like he's suddenly become a teenager overnight without my knowledge or permission.  I press forward.

"And why is she your girlfriend?"  I repress my smile, anxiously anticipating his answer.

"Because she is."  Exasperated by my line of questioning, he finally gets up from the kitchen table and runs upstairs to play.  And I am right back to where we started, only now with a bunch of new questions that I'll probably never get the answer to. 

But that doesn't mean I won't keep trying.  Maybe I'll have better luck tomorrow.

Or maybe I'll just put on my David Caruso sunglasses and spy on him and this Kelly girl tomorrow during recess.

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