Indians & Omerta

The B and The G are a talkative pair, their chatter incessant from morning until night.
But here's the rub: On the occasions that either of them possesses information that I need them to impart, neither has a thing to say.
To be fair, it's not just them. We have friends who have a little boy, a little under 12 months older than The B, who has just started school.
"What has he been doing?" I asked them during a break in the action at The B's recent birthday party.
"We have no idea," came the answer. "He hasn't told us."
I can sympathise, for The B and The G are just the same: ask them a question and they're guaranteed to clam up. It's like Omerta, toddler-style.
It's a little easier for us, because the staff at nursery, perhaps wise to this, send The B and The G home with a sheet that details each session's activities.
"What have you been doing this morning?" I always ask them upon their return.
"Read the sheet," is the inevitable response.
There's no such sheet at school, so I can see I'm going to have engage in some communicative exercises before The B starts next year or risk being kept in the dark.
That said, the nursery sheets often require a certain amount of interpretation.
The G's are simple: Lots of painting, had a good time, no food eaten, etc etc.
The B's, though, often leave a little more to the imagination, one recent sheet in particular more cryptic than most.
"This morning, The B has been playing with Indians," it said.
Getting him to expand on that is a forlorn hope indeed.