Day 7 - So Say The Children

People are very concerned about America’s youth scoring low on standardized testing and not measuring up to children in other countries, and the brunt of the blame for this falls on the shoulders of our educational system. But I have my own theory. I’m convinced that it has something to do with well-meaning parents refusing to let their kids speak for themselves.

Today, for example, while visiting a friend, I noticed that her 4-year-old had a band-aid on her leg. “What did you do to your leg?” I asked the girl. “She scratched it,” supplied Mom. Ignoring Mom, I asked the girl, “How did you do that?” Again, Mom quickly chimed in, “On a stick in the yard.” Once again, addressing the girl I asked, “Did it bleed?” and, of course, Mom answered for her and told me that it had, but just a little. I turned to my friend and said, “You know I’m not actually trying to diagnose her problem here, right?” The truth is that I had very little interest in what the girl did to her leg. Kids have cuts and scrapes all the time and the story behind them is rarely interesting. There are only so many times you can hear, “He fell down” before it looses its magic. Unless the child is telling the story. That’s the interesting part.

I have a brother who lets his kids speak and interesting and funny stuff comes out of their mouths all the time. When his daughter was four and cut her leg, I asked her the same question. “Did it bleed?” She sighed and said, “Aunt Michelle, it’s just a little blood. You wipe it off and you go on.” Now THAT’s funny.

So why do parents think that they have to come to the rescue every time I ask their child a question? There is not a lot of information that I can glean from a 3-year-old that is going to enhance my life. It’s how they answer the question that will do that for me. I know that some of the questions I ask are too hard for them. Those are the funniest answers. Did you learn nothing from Bill Cosby? And I don’t need you to explain their answers to me. If your little one tells me that her favorite color is lemonade, you don’t need to tell me that she means pink lemonade because she likes pink. I’m not planning a shopping spree for her. I may ask her for further clarification, or I may let it remain ambiguous in my head. Could be yellow…could be pink…could mean she doesn’t know any colors yet. The real answer doesn’t change my day. I like the lemonade answer just fine. As a parent, you need to just let the answer ride.