Seated on a High Chair
A few years ago in the summer, I was a nanny to two adorable children. And looking back, I learned more from these tiny adults disguised as toddlers, than I ever did as a train-wreck in my teens. I will tell you why. Children know a try-hard faker from miles away–it’s their sixth sense. We can act proud, provide great wisdom, even think we are sounding profound, but they call out our bullsh*t sooner than we realise it is coming out of our arses. Which is why, whatever you do, it’s best to avoid any sanctimonious lessons. It will haunt you…
On a late afternoon, the kids I was nannying were full of energy, so I decided to drag them outside to play at the park a few blocks away. I grabbed a small soccer ball in one hand and shoved coats and shoes onto the kids with the other. I told the boy, “I’m going to carry the ball so that you don’t drop it.” Despite this kind offer to hold something, I would rather not, because let’s be fair we all like our hands free, the boy insisted that he carry the ball. Since I can’t say “no” to child labour, I let him have it (please notice the sarcasm throughout).
Not even 5 seconds had passed, when the ball was out of his grip and rolling right into the street. In one swift move and a panicked “STOP!”, I pulled him back from running towards an oncoming car. He naturally was terrified, distraught, and sobbing. 20% of the reason he was crying was at the shock of what just happened, since I rarely raise my voice, and the other 80% was his concern that he had lost his soccer ball for good, noted by his quivering lips as he longingly looked at the road.
When the coast was clear, I cautiously retrieved the ball from being flattened and then we had a good and proper talk about safety. I looked at the boy, hugged him, and then preceded with this lecture: “I’m sorry I yelled. I know that was scary, but I didn’t want you getting hit by the car. We can always get a new ball if it rolls onto the street, but we can’t replace… Erm, look. It’s important to not play with the ball and to hold it carefully until we reach the park. I know you were trying to hold the ball carefully but it can still accidentally roll out. And if the ball does go out into the street, I’ll get the ball because the cars can see me better and I can be careful to not get hurt. Alright, now that you know all this, do you want to try holding the ball again?” This prompted some hugging and further reassurance for his sister, who stood beside him, now crying as she too was reflecting the close brush with death. And after taking a moment to get over my possible heart attack as I nearly avoided a child’s untimely death, we all decided I should carry the ball and continued on our way.
In a moment of absent mindedness, I causally threw the ball up out of my hand and then failed to catch it. The ball thankfully rolled onto the small bit of grass next to the pavement. Relieved, I bent down to pick up the ball and from behind me, the boy rightly piped, “And that’s why we don’t play with the ball before we get to the park.” I nodded, “Yes. Yes, exactly.” I could not deny that hypocrisy had just dunked me in water, slapped me across the face, and then completely stole my, “I told you so” finale moment. So there you have it–be sure to follow through with the lessons we preach.