A funny thing happened a while back at work. I was in the men’s restroom and as I was walking to the sink one of my co-workers who speaks with a pretty thick accent came in and was headed to the stalls. I said, “How are you doing,” trying to be polite. He responded, “I’m going to poop (it’s even funnier if you think about it with an accent).” I started getting a little red faced and explained, “No, I asked HOW you are doing.”
It made me think, would I ever answer this question the way he did? And then it made me think, at what age did I start letting my ego/pride/embarrassment get in the way of my communication? We all have stories about how we tried to act cool and did something stupid or hurt someone’s feelings and I’m not going to go there and issue apologies to all those... actually, yes I am. If anyone reading this blog was a victim of my trying to act cool, or save my own pride, I sincerely apologize. It more than likely made me look worse anyway. But if you were a victim of my stupidity, please forgive me.
I got home yesterday and our nanny was telling me that Connor was singing songs about different body parts. He sang about his toes, his knees, belly button and of course his penis. Actually who hasn’t sung an ode to their own penis at least once right? A friend of mine even has a comedy song about it called dear penis. The question I have is, aside from Rodney, when do we stop singing about our body parts? Publicly I mean.
When you think about mooning or flashing people, you usually have some fun little memories of high school or college. Additionally, skinny dipping is a fun and naughty little rite of passage…unless you are two and a half. At this age pulling off your diaper and running around the sprinkler is merely something you would do on a Tuesday in the summer. Obviously Josie is only 8 months and is just saying “mama” and “dada” and is oblivious to nudity or body fluids. I guess this is why she can spit up on your neck and then give you the biggest two teeth grin she can muster. She also has no problem eating the little portions of ritz cracker that Connor discards for lacking the proper amount of cheese or peanut butter….off the floor. We’ll have to teach her about the three second rule later, but for now there apparently is no time limit. When you see her excitedly grabbing a hot new prize (like a sunflower seed kernel or a day old quarter grape) and she’s putting it into her mouth she looks pretty excited about the little treasure she’s just dug up. Of course we take it away from her, but her disappointment clearly isn’t shame. I guess we have to be taught that.
So when is the appropriate age to teach shame? I’m not talking about right and wrong. I mean shame. Like don’t pull your pants down at the store …until you are in college and your pledge master tells you to. Actually, I guess shame is the wrong word. Modesty is probably the better term. I don’t want my kids to be ashamed of their bodies, but I also don’t want to see Connor giving his little buddy some air at a dinner party. And I certainly don’t want Josie playing “guess what’s under my dress” EVER (I know I’m going to have to let go eventually and I’m going to need some help from friends who have older girls). I know I like to walk around the house in my underwear (because it’s cooler) but I certainly run to the bedroom and put some clothes back on when someone comes to the door. But Connor doesn’t care, and I guess I hope he never does.
So I think I might just tell Connor and Josie that due to their fair skin, they mustn’t show a bunch of it, but never be embarrassed. And if you want to sing songs about your junk, go right ahead. I happen to know someone who’s made a pretty good living doing it. Just please don’t do it in church, or at school, or at the mall, or in the grocery store. Okay, so maybe we could just sing it in the car? Am I too uptight?
No comments:
Post a Comment