Secrets

The first thing Sean told me today when I picked him up from school was "I don't want to go my baseball game today."

(He's had one T-ball game so far and had a grand time.)

No subsequent interrogation technique elicited a reason. Did anything happen at school? No. Did someone say something to you? No. Did you do something you don't want to tell me about? Yes. I mean no. Do you want to whisper in my ear? No. Do you want to write it down instead of tell me? Yes. (Pause while he sits at the table.) I don't really have anything to write about. What's wrong? NOTHING!

Realizing that my obsessive need desire to know EVERYTHING just might be having the opposite effect, I backed off.

He seems okay, if a bit ornery, this afternoon. He still doesn't want to go to his game and still offers no reason. It's driving me crazy.

Sigh. I am ill equipped to handle secret-holding. I know it will only get worse as the kids get older. You start with a reluctance to swing a bat at T-ball and the next thing you know they're married to someone you've never met.

What, you think I'm blowing this out of proportion a little?