This past weekend, my five-year-old son and I were looking at the Guiness Book of World Records. It’d been about 6 weeks since we’d last picked it up. When we came to the woman with the world’s longest fingernails, he giggled and said, “How does she wipe her bum?” Which is the joke I made the last time we were thumbing through the book. Then my son looked at me and added, “I never forgot.”
It made me feel like if he’s going to remember what I say, I need to up my game. Seems like when it comes to words, there are times when we say too many and others when we say too few.
The other day my kids and I rode bikes to the park by our house that has something for everyone: soccer fields, baseball diamonds, tennis courts, and a BMX path. My kids were riding along the BMX path practicing going over the smaller bumps so I turned to watch a Lacrosse game.
I heard a man behind me start talking to my kids, “We don’t like for kids to climb these mounds because we are trying to rebuild them.” I turned around and my kids were sitting atop of one of the hills nodding at the man.
I didn’t say anything initially but watched as he continued, “You see, it erodes them so we don’t want kids on them. We are trying to rebuild them and it takes a lot of work….”
He was about ten sentences in saying pretty much the same thing over and over again. I cut in to save him and said, “Okay. We heard you.” He nodded and rode away and my kids carefully climbed down.
What’s the line from Jerry Maguire? “You had me at hello.’ We get nervous or excited and starting using a hundred words when one or ten will do.
On the other end of the spectrum are all the words of admiration, love, and encouragement we think but don’t say. What are we saving them up for? A eulogy?
I have a call and response with my kids. “Guess what?” I’ll ask. When they say “what,” I respond with “I love you.” It’s become so familiar that when I say “guess what,” my five-year-old son will respond, “You love me?”
Yes, yes, I do. And those are words worth remembering.
(featured photo from Pexels)
I co-host a storytelling podcast featuring authors and artists. To tune in, search for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Spotify, Apple, Amazon Music or Pocketcasts (and subscribe) or click here. Or the YouTube channel features videos of our interviews. Please subscribe!
My other projects include work as a CEO (Chief Encouragement Officer), speaking about collaboration, creativity and AI through the Chicago Writer’s Association, and my book about my journey to find what fueled my dad’s indelible spark and twinkle can be found on Amazon: Finding My Father’s Faith.
As a species, we do not tell people enough how we truly feel about them. It is so important that you do that, and it is so amazing that your kids even know what you’re going to say before you say it!
When it comes to words, sometimes less is more. Often suffering from verbal diarrhea, that’s something I need to keep in mind. 😂
Less is more — kinda in sync with your decluttering message. Right, Michelle?
Exactly!
It sounds as if the man felt guilty for telling your kids to get down off the mounds. You reminded me of a wedding we went to recently for one of the swimmers from our Palm Springs swim team. The officiant was told to keep it short and sweet. He opened with ‘Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 30 seconds later he introduced Mr. and Mrs. to the crowd, Short and sweet!
What?? You aren’t kidding about a short wedding. That’s funny. I think you are right that the man felt guilty.
Otherwise the an wouldn’t over explain, right? It was the shortest wedding I’ve ever been to. Everyone said, “That was the best wedding ever!”
The call and response you have with your kids is wonderful Wynne, and they learned it fast!
Thank you, Cristiana!
Wynne, I love this post! 💕 I always hesitate to comment on the behavior of someone else’s kids. I think short and sweet is key, if you really must say something.
I once stopped a young tourist from putting an endangered gopher tortoise in the Gulf of Mexico. He answered, “I didn’t know.” Afterward, I wish I had suggested that he look the tortoise up in Wikipedia, and tell all his friends back home how he had discovered an endangered tortoise on his vacation. Hindsight!
Oh, I love your “short and sweet” formula, Cheryl. It’s so tricky. Love how you stepped in with the endangered tortoise. Let’s hope he figured out how to look it up on his own! Thanks for the great comment!
I love how you upped your game as you said- but don’t lose the goofy stuff like the fingernail comment- that’s good too! 😁
I’m laughing, Todd. Right – I guess remember the goofy is real too!