I once leaned over to a little girl in church and told her pointedly that my dress was prettier than her dress. I thought she needed the information to make a better fashion choice next time. I was very young, of course, six or so, and wouldn’t do that now.
I was also deterred from my honest evaluation of what other kids chose to wear by the fact that my mother spanked me for my vocal fashion critique. From then on, I just thought it: “My dress really is prettier than your dress, but I’ll keep that to myself.” Or, “Just because they make it in your size doesn’t mean you ought to wear it, but you do what you want to with all that bulk.”
Another reason I don’t brag about my dresses today is that I can’t find one that fits me, much less one that’s prettier than anybody else’s. And for another, leaning over to tell anybody anything these days is a perilous physical undertaking.
But I’ve been thinking about that little episode, and it has led me to a conclusion about the way parents train children.
Most parents hope they’re teaching their children to tell the truth in life. Then they put them into situations where telling the truth gets the kids into trouble.
For instance, if my mother hadn’t wanted me to be truthful about that kid’s dress, maybe she should have plopped me down next to an old guy in dirty overalls that I wouldn’t have noticed.
Parents ask their kids questions that can’t possibly be answered truthfully, because if the child tells the truth he’s gonna get whacked— parents only want kids to tell the truth when it suits them. There’s no way to win with some of these parental inquiries.
Here’s a question I’ve heard a mother ask when she’s driving and the kids in the back seat get a little boisterous.
MOM: Do you want me to pull this car over and wear you out? Do you? Because you know I’ll do it!
( For you parents who discipline by Time Out, “Wear you out” referred to a spanking, which worked on me better than Time Out, which I thought was a vacation.)
KID: Yes. I mean, no, I mean... I know you’ll do it but....”
The kid really wants to say honestly, “Just how stupid do you think I am? You think I’m gonna tell you I want you to stop and whip me? How dumb would that be?” But he’d get whacked for disrespect if he said that.
Hopefully, by then Mom has gotten into heavy traffic, is too occupied with an incoming text to pull over, and forgets that she even asked the question.
This is similar to the question parents ask a child who is in trouble It goes like this:
MOM: Well, just what do you think we ought to do with you? What would YOU do, Mr. Smarty Pants? No, really, tell us what you would do with a kid who had done this terrible thing? (Mom can get really sarcastic when she’s trying to get an honest answer.)
The kid really wants to say — “What would I do? Uh, buy that kid a new phone? Get him the video game he’s been wanting?”
But of course he lapses into stony silence. He’s certainly not going to suggest that such a kid should lose his cellphone or be grounded until he’s 30. No, there’s no safe honest reply at this point.
Adults trying to deal with kids during family confrontations may ask confusing things like “Do you think money grows on trees?” Or the ever popular parent question, “Do you think I’m just plain stupid?”
What would an adult do if a child gave an honest response to the old money on trees question, like “I don’t know, but hold it a minute while I run outside and look. I suspect, Dad, that it must grow on trees because I saw what all Mom bought and hid in the closet yesterday.”
Or the answer to the question of parental stupidity: “Well, maybe not plain stupid. Maybe just pretty stupid.”
The kid knows telling what he honestly thinks would land him in Time Out until he graduates from college.
By the way, parents, when your child is between the ages of 12 and 21, NEVER ask him if he thinks you’re stupid. For a teenager, a parent’s stupidity is a foregone conclusion.
Visiting relatives also provides a minefield of confusing queries for kids trying to figure out your desire for true honesty.
“You remember Great-Aunt Lootie Mae, don’t you, honey? Mom asks with that look on her face like the Right Answer is very important, as if your life as a kid of hers hangs in the balance.
Is Junior supposed to be honest as Mom taught him to be and say, “Is she the one you said you hope will die soon and leave you her money?” Which will get him whacked.
Or should he lie and say he remembers her when he doesn’t?
No wonder kids are on drugs! We adults have them so confused that they feel more secure in la-la land than in real life, trying to figure out how to be honest without getting whacked.
