Jonathan started his new school today. He said it went well, and he particularly enjoyed the morning in French. We talked for a while, and I told him his homework for tomorrow was to make a friend. He needed to tell me (1) the friend's name, and (2) that they played together during recess. And then I would give him a cookie.
Bribery. Because making a friend is not good enough on its own.
Then I left. Fifteen minutes later I heard him crying in his room. I came in and asked "what is wrong?"
"I went to the wrong room after recess."
So he has two classrooms, one in French, one in English. After the morning recess, he returned to the French classroom. After the afternoon recess, he forgot he was now in the English room, and went back to the French classroom. The teacher sent him to the English room. He was mortified.
"What if people laugh at me for going to the wrong room?"
"Did anyone laugh at you?" I asked.
"No."
"Then why will they? It was just a silly mistake. In fact, you should laugh at it yourself."
I don't think I convinced him, but he did go back to bed quietly.
I wish I could help him out more with these social things, but I don't really know how. As soon as I shut the door, I called the parents of the boy sitting across the table from him and invited their son over for a playdate. Tomorrow.
I'm not taking any chances on Jonathan missing out on that cookie.
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confession: I went to the wrong room for one of my classes on my very first day of college. I was seated in the back of the stadium style class room but the door was down at the front of the room next to the professor. I was off by one floor. So mortifying to walk down and scurry out . . .
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