Careful the Things You Say, Children Will Listen--And Repeat Them

Remember those commercials for the chewy granola bars? The ones where the kids would repeat things they had heard their parents say, like (at a wedding) "My mom said she can't believe you wore white." Or, "My daddy hasn't paid his taxes in nine years!" (For the record, I tried to embed the you tube video of the first commercial into this post, but something was majorly wrong with the audio.) I used to love those commercials because they were so darned funny.

Kids really do say the darndest things. And tonight my son became one of those kids. In the grocery store.

Have I mentioned recently that he has incredibly difficulty distinguishing between his "inside voice" and his "outside voice"?

Okay, so here's my embarrassment for the evening, but first I have to go back a little bit into my own childhood so that I can explain why I said what I said, which lead to what he said.

My mom had a sly way of teaching us life's little lessons as we grew up. She didn't have to come out and tell us what she did or did not want us to do--she found teaching moments in what others did. If someone else said or did something that she disapproved of, she would let us know that whatever that person had done was inappropriate. It was really an ingenious method, if you think about it. She could show us just how much she disapproved of the behavior, she headed it off before it became an issue (this worked with us--I realize that there are some children out there who would take this as a cue to go and do the undesired behavior, and that my second-born may just be one of those children.), and she didn't have to yell at or discipline us over that particular issue. It was a win-win situation.

So, tonight I was attempting to employ my mom's strategy. There were 3 gentlemen (and I use the term incredibly loosely) wandering around Walmart as we shopped this evening. They weren't exactly what one would classify as "goth", and they weren't "emo", either. I would have to say that they were certainly unclean, loud and obnoxious. My favorite part was when one of them continually lifted up his shirt to show us what was underneath. (Please note that the previous sentence should be read with much sarcasm. If you failed to interpret it this way, please go back and re-read with the proper tone. I shudder to think that you might think I found myself even remotely attracted to this person.) As our shopping trip progressed, we periodically found ourselves in the path of these rude boys who were clearly not at the store to accomplish anything productive.

I saw my chance to guide my son down the path of right.

If we found ourselves in the same aisle as these boys, we turned the other direction to avoid them (as they were using language that I didn't not want my 5 year old to learn). I explained to Connor that we were avoiding them because they were being rude, and that I didn't ever want my little boy to grow up and behave that way.

Doesn't sound so bad, does it? I did what any responsible mother would do, right? Wrong! You see, apparently, I used the phrase "idiot-boy" somewhere in my explanation. (Oh yes, this is where the story gets good.)

So, later on by the cleaning supplies, one of the boys crosses our path again. And what does my son--the one who does not understand the concept of volume control--say, no, shout for the world (and the boy) to hear?

"There's that idiot-boy again."

So, Connor and I had a quiet little discussion about not saying things that would hurt others' feelings. I explained to him that I should not have called the boy a name, etc., and I went and wiped the rest of the egg off of my face. I don't think the boy heard Connor.

I also don't think he saw any of the 8,000 teacher glares I shot him while we were in the store (or, if he did notice, he just didn't care, which is entirely possible). My only consolation is that one day, idiot-boy is going to go on a job interview and he will either not get the job because he will look and act much like he did tonight, or he will get the job only to be fired for acting and looking like he did tonight. He will get taken down a couple of pegs and he will learn to modify his behavior and act like a normal, respectful human being. I'm not saying that he needs to conform completely. You can wear your hair however you want, you can dress to express yourself (as long as you're not exposing yourself to me, my family or anyone else's children)--I DON'T CARE! Be as shocking as you want, but your right to shock/express/whatever ends when it infringes on my ability to take my kids to the grocery store and shop in relative peace.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: just because you can procreate doesn't mean that you should. And it certainly doesn't mean you should turn over the keys to that offspring once the state says it can drive to the store.

(Wow, we're all gonna be in for a GREAT time come August, when I'm back in a classroom with teenagers all day, every day--aren't we?)