Nothing and Garbage

The first day Hope came home from preschool she told me all about it.  She gushed about building potato heads with friends, playing with a stuffed kitty, and squishing animals into glurch.  When I asked her follow up questions, she readily answered, even telling me the plot of the story they read because she couldn't remember the name of the book.  She played outside on the little playground, so she didn't get to do the swings, but she did go down the slide.  They had cheese and crackers for snack, but she didn't eat the crackers.  Her excitement almost brought tears to my eyes.

Fast forward to today.

Me:  "Hope, how was school?"

Hope:  "Good."

Me:  "What did you do today?"

Hope:  "Nothing."

Me:  "Well, what did you have for snack?"

Hope:  "Garbage."

To give credit, where credit is due, I know that Hope got these responses from her friend.  The two of them find it quite hilarious, and if I'm being honest, I get a little chuckle out of it too.  As hard as I try though, I can not extract information about her school day.  I guess I can assume that as long as she comes out of the room smiling and confidently tells me she did "nothing" and ate "garbage" during school, I can be reassured that she's feeling comfortable and well-adjusted.  Plus I just need to let go of knowing every little thing about her day.  Because the "letting go" is part of parenthood too.