After having daycare and preschool teachers who loved and doted on Pea (I am friends with them on FB), I’m facing the fact in kindergarten that she is one of 22 kids and she’s not loved and doted on the same way.

This feeling sucks.

I don’t think she notices. In her world, everyone she interacts with has always loved her and been charmed by her precocity and sass. Whenever a child is not kind to her, she is genuinely astonished. I am not astonished, because I know the world is a cruel and horrid place, and this starts in school. Once I can get past my vindictive feelings, I start questioning her.

I need to work on my technique, because, let’s face it, as a civil litigator, I was trained to ask questions one way and one way only: for the deposition. (OK, occasionally something went to trial. But really? It was all about the depo.)

In fact, I’ve started wondering if she needs counsel. I mean, my questions break most of the rules for conducting a deposition. So in the pauses between my question and her answers, I’ve started inserting objections on her behalf. You know…for the imaginary record. (And if you think this is silly, you have never tried to maintain your sanity while being the primary caretaking parent.)

Today all she’d let drop was that there were shooting stars of some sort as part of a dragon game that sounded kind of like musical chairs (my impression; she didn’t elaborate) and she didn’t get one.

Ms. AAL: So tell me about these shooting stars.

Pea’s Imaginary Counsel (PIC): Object to the form of the question.

Pea: They’re stars. From a game.

Ms. AAL: Did you get one?

Pea: [Mona] didn’t.

Ms. AAL: Strike as unresponsive. Did you get a shooting star?

PIC: Objection. Asked and answered. Don’t answer that.

Ms. AAL: She did not answer the question.

(Off record at 1:15 PM)

(On record at 1:18 PM)

Ms. AAL: We are back on the record at 1:18 PM. Miss Pea, now that you’ve had time to consult with counsel, would you like to answer the question of whether or not you received a shooting star?

Pea: I didn’t. But [Jeremy] didn’t, either.

Ms. AAL: Do you know why you didn’t get a shooting star?

PIC: Objection. Calls for speculation. Go ahead and answer – if you can.

Pea: I don’t know.

Ms. AAL: Do you know why Jeremy didn’t get one, either?

PIC: Objection. Relevance. Calls for speculation. Answer if you can.

Pea: I don’t know. It was part of a game.

Ms. AAL: What sort of game were you playing?

Pea: There were chairs and we had to sit down. There were stars at every seat.

Ms. AAL: So your testimony is that there were stars for every child?

Pea: Yes.

Ms. AAL: So why didn’t you get one, if there was a star for every child?

PIC: Objection. Calls for speculation. Asked and answered.

Pea: I don’t know. I didn’t stick my legs out. Nobody tripped.

PIC: I’d like a break to speak to my client.

(Off record at 1:23 PM)
(On record at 1:28 PM)

Ms. AAL: You previously mentioned not sticking your legs out. Was this part of the game?

PIC: Object to the form of the question.

Pea: No one tripped.

Ms. AAL: Did the teachers think you tripped someone?

PIC: Objection. Calls for speculation.

Pea: No. No one fell.

Ms. AAL: Then why didn’t you get a shooting star?

PIC: Counsel, you’ve asked that question and you’ve gotten your answer. Move on.

Pea: The stars didn’t have names on them. We all played with them.

PIC: You haven’t been asked a question, Pea.

Pea: Can I have some chocolate milk? I don’t want to talk about the stars anymore.

Ms. AAL: You can have chocolate milk if you tell me why you didn’t get a star.

PIC: Objection….