(I’m four years old. It’s my second week of pre-school and up until now I have been dropped at home by the school bus, but this day because my dad has a day off from work he comes to pick me up. He signs in and talks to the receptionist who calls the classroom. My dad was 55 when I was born so he gets mistaken for my grandfather a lot. Also he is an Irishman who speaks his mind.)

Teacher: “Your grand-dad is here to pick you up”

Me: *confused I look out the door* “That’s not my grandpa; that’s my dad.”

Teacher: “It’s not nice to tell fibs. Come along now.”

(My teacher walks me out to where my dad is waiting.)

Teacher: *to my dad* “Hello Mr. [Name]. You know I think it’s wonderful when the grandparents of the children help out.”

Dad: “So do I but I’m not her grandfather. I’m her father, you twit.” *to me* “Come on, bub. Let’s go.”

(I saw the teachers face go red as she ran back into the classroom. She avoided me as much as possible for a long time and I think she used to hide when dad would pick me up!)

(My mum is giving a talk about nutrition to one of the play groups she runs and my little sister, who is seven, is with her.)

Mum: “So it’s important you take time to plan out your meals and give your kids healthy food that’s also tasty. It doesn’t have to be complicated or even take long to make.”

(At this point my sister pipes up.)

Sister: “Yeah, like all those microwave meals you used to give us.”

(Everyone was silent for a moment as my mum blushed bright red and quickly had to explain that before we moved and lived with our step-dad she worked three jobs. Her ex-husband couldn’t cook so she had to leave microwavable stuff for us, but now she cooked every day. She was so angry with my sister, who had no idea she’d said anything wrong!)

(Little children ask for Band-Aids for everything.)

Student: “Miss, I need a Band-Aid.” *points to a paper cut so small I can barely see it*

Me: “Honey, it is very tiny and not bleeding at all. It does not need a Band-Aid.”

Student: *looks at her finger* “Okay!”

(A few minutes later same student comes over to the desk.)

Student: “I think I need a Band-Aid now.”

(She had picked at the tiny paper cut until it opened up and was bleeding!)

(Usually, I work in the infant classroom, but today I’m helping out in the three-year-old room. The older sister of one of the babies comes up to ask me a question.)

Student: “Ms. [Name]?”

Me: “What’s up, kiddo?”

Student: “You have boobies.”

Me: *slightly taken aback* “Yup…”

Student: “Mommy has boobies, too.”

Me: “Okay…”

Student: “She uses her boobies to feed [Baby Brother].”

Me: *beginning to sense where this is going* “She does, because he’s so little.”

Student: “Do you use your boobies to feed [Baby Brother]?”

Me: “No, [Student]. He drinks from bottles when he’s here.”

Student: “But you have boobies! You could use those!”

Me: “But it’s really not my job to. It’s Mommy’s.”

Student: “Oh, okay!”

(She skips away leaving me to bring this up with her mom, at pick up, in the least uncomfortable way possible.)

(My friend’s four-year-old daughter is really smart. My friend and her husband are very honest with their daughter about things like the human body. The kids in her preschool class have recently learned their teacher is pregnant.)

Classmate: “[Teacher] has a baby in her belly!”

Friend’s Daughter: *with a heavy sigh of exasperation* “NO! The baby is in her UTERUS. And it’s going to come out her VAGINA!”