The First Day of First Grade My son looks exactly like his father but, acts a lot like me. This irritates me. We are introverts. His father is completely the opposite but, that is another story for another time. It took me a long time to realize he was introverted because he is so God Damn friendly most of the time. When he was a toddler I used to worry he would be abducted because he would strike up conversations with anyone. I find him telling the inmate details of our lives to total strangers. In spite of his social skills, I have come to realize that he is truly introverted. In other words he largely processes things internally before he talks about them.

So this is the scene yesterday, Sam gets off the school bus. “Hi Mom,” Sam said. “Hi Sam how was your day,” I ask. “Good,” Sam answered. “Did you have fun?” “Yeah, I had fun,” Sam said. “What did you do,” I countered. “I don’t want to tell you,” he said. Now on the surface I was nonchalant about the whole thing. All hip, slick and “that is cool if you don’t want to tell me.” I am embarrassed to admit it however, but my head was saying, “Don’t want to tell me? What do you mean you don’t want to tell me? I have read to you virtually everyday of your life. I dragged your tiny little ass to libraries and museums since you were still a toddler. I did this all so you could tell me what you did on the first day of first grade.” Yep, insanity! I backed off and let him be, grateful I had not actually said anything.

His father got home a few hours later and I said, “He won’t tell me what he did today.” “Of course not,” he said. “He is processing it internally, just like you,” he went on. Who died and made him all Gandhi meets William James anyway.  ¶ 8/31/2005 04:35:00 AM