Should I Be Worried?

The oldest little man in my house, Nyles who is 5, will finish his 7th full day of kindergarten. Last Friday when I picked him and his sister up from school she tattled on him.
“Nyles had to sit on the blue bench at recess,” she said. “I think it was because he pushed that girl down. Did you push that girl down Nyles?” she asked.
“Did you see me push her?” was Nyles’ response.

Fast forward to Wednesday this week. I pick the kids up from school and we go home.
“I wrote my name today,” Nyles says.
“That’s great” I reply.
When we got home he told his mom about 100 times about how he wrote his name in school. I grabbed some cabbage rolls for lunch and took the last seat at the “big” table. Nyles brings his snack to the table but sees there is no room, meaning he has to sit at the “baby” table.
“You know Uncle Kevin can eat in his office,” He says to his sister, who by the way is also sitting at the big table.
“It’s his house, he can eat wherever he wants,” was her wise 7 year old reply.
“He should eat where I tell him to eat,” says Nyles.
“Nuh un”
“Un hun!”
“Nuh un!”
“Un hun! He should do what I say. I wrote my name, I’m in charge!”

I think I am going to sleep with the door locked once he learns his ABCs.