Ben loves to write (and read), and I think that's so cool. In writer's workshop, they're learning about poems right now, and he is pumped. (Despite the fact that he calls it a one-syllable pome instead of a two-syllable po-em and nothing I can say convinces him that the latter is correct.) Since I wasn't home yesterday, I noticed the pile on the counter that Sam and Ben had gone through, and randomly pulled out this piece of paper.
I was so sad when I read it. Ben thinks he's fat? Who gave him that idea? Why is he writing poems about it?
I carried it in to where he was eating breakfast and asked him, "Ben. Why did you write 'I am fat'?"
He casually looked at me and said, "Oh. I meant to write fast."
Phew. So he doesn't think he's fat.
He's just a bad speller and rhymer. That's better?
(In fairness, I'm chalking this up as an off day. The kids never ceases to amaze me. I mean, check out that penmanship. Impressive for a kindergarten boy, no?)