At the age of four, I pretty much knew what I wanted in life. That list included at least one miniature horse, a swimming pool in my backyard, and as few vegetables on my plate as possible. Don't tell any of the other grown-ups, because they'd never let me live it down, but I still want those things. I'm not as picky these days-I'd take a pony if no miniature horses were available and I don't mind sharing your swimming pool with you if it's not possible to insert one into my backyard. You don't mind, right?
It's interesting that we are able to start identifying things we want and need at an early age (until around age 20, we don't do a very good job). My daughter is really getting the hang of this. She regularly tells us what she wants and needs, and then about 30 seconds later, she will tell us again. There is never any danger of us forgetting, or attempting to ignore her requests (and demands).
I thought about it, and I can't figure out why we all feel the need to act so maturely. Wouldn't life be easier if we could all act like four-year-olds and make sure our requests were heard? Miscommunication would be a thing of the past.
Instead of asking your boss for a raise, you could demand one, and then another one, and then another one. And because of the shrill tone of your voice (and holding your breath until you turn blue, if you're into that), your boss would be happy to give you the extra money. Well, not happy, but you'd get your money, okay?
Instead of waiting in line for long periods of time, you could cry long and hard enough to convince those in front of you that they should probably leave. Kicking around on the floor is a last resort, but don't be afraid to use it.
If you'd normally endure an hour-long conversation with the most long-winded man in town, the new immature you could simply cut him short and say, “That's boring. Where's the ice cream?” Because, let's be honest, that's what you were thinking anyway. Okay, fine, it's what I was thinking.
When the elevator is full, four year olds feel nothing is wrong with telling everyone to get out of the way because they have to poop. Just sit there for a minute and think about how nice that would be. I rest my case.
When we're born, we don't know what is socially acceptable. We are just as likely to spit up on Mom's expensive black dress as we are her tattered, crusty hoodie from college. That indifference is what makes children so awesome. Kids call them like they see them. If you've ever been called ugly, fat, or mean by an adult, there's a 50-50 chance they were just trying to hurt your feelings. When a child says any of those things, unfortunately, they are being 100percent truthful. Their tiny little lives are so much easier than ours, not only because they don't go to work, make food, drive cars, vote, or run “errands,” but also because they don't have to worry about telling the truth-to them, it's the only option (at least until they are old enough to know better). Any other moms out there investing in a polygraph machine?
Love, Mom
Debra (Fulcher) Carpenter writes when she isn't studying, or when she's procrastinating. Mostly when she's procrastinating. She is a young housewife, student, and mom.
Email her at interruptedmom@gmail.com or visit the website at www.motherinterrupted.com