The power of a peer

I’m learning too quickly how a parent can lose all influence over her children. In days gone by, what mom and dad said was gold--twenty-four karat, take it to the bank, won’t turn your finger green gold. But apparently over time, the altruistic words of the parental unit begin to roll off their backs like carelessly placed eggs on an untrue counter.

We no longer hold the sole position of selfless, all-knowing guidance counselor, ever available to give honest and direct answers to our children’s toughest questions about their world. We’re losing our standing as the go-to guy when it comes to inquiries about life and death and the origin of the “big blue man” who grants wishes “from a can”.

It seems we have been replaced by those with less experience, a lower IQ, and a significantly smaller shoe size: their peers…and I thought that wasn’t supposed to happen until puberty.

But it has, and it does, and the times are fewer and farther in between when I hear my oldest spout, “Mom said!” as the authoritative grounds on which he bases his disagreements with his little brother. Rather I’m the one being corrected and admonished for little things, like the words we have chosen as the names of everyday necessities of life at the Smith house.

Case in point, after spending a week this summer with their five year old cousin, Mattie, they were both shocked and in awe to discover that boys wear underwear and girls wear panties. To most, I suppose this is a simple fact of life. At our house, however, it has always been “panties”, although in a house full of boys, I have no idea why.

I felt a little dejected, then, after being harshly scorned by a three year old and promptly corrected by his older brother at my inappropriate usage of two so distinctly different nouns. I can only imagine how confused the two of them must have been to have received such a revelation. Especially since one of their weekly chores is to put Daddy’s folded panties neatly on his dresser.

Along those same lines, they learned that “girls wear swimming suits and boys wear swimming trunks” and thank goodness that mix-up seemed a little less gender confusing than the previously misrepresented undergarments.

Sometimes the things they learn serve a good far greater than that of simply undoing the misdeeds of their parents. Often, their minds are opened and their vocabularies expanded to include ideas and phrases that will prove invaluable to them in later life. Words that they can call on when no other expression seems to fit so succinctly. My favorite illustration of this comes from my niece, Harlie, top trip in a trio of the most beautiful, brilliant and busy three and a half year olds I know.

During a recent conversation, I was amused and intrigued to discover that Josephine, the full blooded Italian woman straight from the old country who keeps my sister’s triplets, “has idiots at her house”. Upon hearing this revelation for the first time, my eyes widened and an unsuccessfully suppressed smile crept across my face. “Idiots, huh?” I had to know more.

With top notch sincerity she continued, “Idiots don’t come in the house.” I tried some independent analysis, but I was left wanting more insight from this clever little girl. “So where do the idiots go?” I asked.

“Idiots are in the movies,” she explained. “Idiots are not in real life.” Oh how I wanted to alert her to her naïve misinterpretation, but I decided that was a conversation for later in life. She continued, “Idiots steal the puppies.”

I decided maybe I was missing something. That she actually had specific “idiots” in mind and that she wasn’t just speaking philosophically or in general. So I asked, “Harlie, what is an idiot?” She responded without a flinch, “Mean people.” And I thought, well, I guess she’s right!

It wasn’t until later that I figured out Miss Harlie was referring to the idiots/mean people in the Dalmatian movie. And much later, I realized Mr. Brisco must have been listening to our conversation, otherwise how could he possibly have labeled his mother “an idiot” after an unfortunate encounter with Dad’s belt.

More recently, I overheard a conversation between my boys that had real potential to become an all-out brawl. I was so pleased and proud, however, to hear Cooper resolve the conflict with the following statement: “You go ahead, Brisco. First is last and last is first,” which I always thought was a direct quote from the Bible.

I wanted to encourage Cooper in this kind of behavior, so I made sure he knew that I’d heard him. I said, “That’s nice, Coop. God said that to us in the Bible, didn’t he?” He had no problem quickly correcting me by stating, “God didn’t say that. Mattie did!”

Yes, the influence of a cousin, a cohort or even a childhood classic can open the eyes of a parent to the significant clout held by those around them. The power of a peer can be greater than a dearly-beloved mother, a highly-respected father, and even the Good Book itself.

We’re trying to keep a hold of what little influence we’ve still got. And at least for now, they’re willing to come to us with a few of the smaller questions of life.
“Hey, Mom, does eating sugar really make you run slow?”
We just keep shooting back those honest and direct answers.
“You bet. And drinking water will make you run really fast!”

And that’s All in a day’s work!