Monday, May 31, 2010

"How sweet of you!"

Son 2 went to visit a friend from school this afternoon, and spent several hours there.  His friend, Chris, called him mid-morning -- I guess they had discussed it some time last week as well.  Wife told Son 2 it was fine for him to go; the time was set vaguely as "this afternoon," and so Son 2 asked me if I could drive him there about noon-ish.  Sure, no problem. 

 

Now, Wife had also said more than once that she wanted Son 2 to do most of the work in making a costume for some school production, albeit naturally under her supervision and with her guidance.  Since he needs to have the costume to wear to school Tuesday, and it is already Monday, you might therefore assume that this means Wife would be jumping up to get most of the work on the costume done in the morning (since she had just given permission for Son 2 to be gone in the afternoon); but this would be to assume a level of consistency, forethought, and industry that might be a little optimistic.  Wife sat in bed, sipping her coffee and reading the newspaper, all morning.  About 11:45 she started sorting the laundry, and Son 2 asked me if we could go over to his friend's house now.  Wife spoke up to say, "No, as soon as I get this laundry going, you and I are gonna sit down in the next room to work on your costume."

 

I intervened: "But you already told him that he could go over to Chris's house, and he's getting ready to go just now."

 

"I said in the afternoon," she objected.

 

"Yes, and that means right now."

 

Wife grumbled and looked for a clock, as I went on:  "I had noticed that you seemed to be waiting until afternoon to work on Son 2's costume, and I was just about to remark about how sweet it was of you to let him go visit his friend and finish it all yourself.  I just think that is really nice."

 

Son 1 piped up to add, "Or oblivious."

 

Of course Son 1 was completely right, and of course I didn't think that her delay was deliberate at all, much less sweet.  But I figured that if I said what I did -- and reminded her that she had already told Son 2 he could go -- then it would box her into a corner so that she would have to let him go.  And she did, and he had a wonderful time all afternoon.

 

It was only afterwards, while driving back from Chris's house, that I started to reflect on what had happened.  And I considered that maybe I perform some kind of valuable service to the boys just by being there, by being a second adult in the house even if (like today) it was nothing dramatic.  Because if I had not been there, what I can easily imagine is a scenario like this: 

 

  • Wife gives Son 2 permission to go to Chris's house in the afternoon. 
  • But then she wants him to do the work on the costume first, and because (in this scenario) she's the only one with car keys, he has to go along with the delay. 
  • What with one thing and another (among other things, because Son 2 obviously can't sew as well as Wife can) it's maybe 3:30 before she is ready to take him over there.
  • But by this time the afternoon is gone.  Chris has long since given up waiting, and decided to do something else.  By the time they could get there, it would be time to turn around and come home. 
  • And Son 2 is then (in this alternate reality) bitterly disappointed. 

 

What is more, he would learn a lot from such a turn of events.  He would learn that Mom's promises can't be trusted.  He would learn that anything he wants is ipso facto less important than anything she wants.  He would learn that play and friendship are ipso facto less important than work ... even pointless, inefficient work.  And he would learn that it is the prerogative of adults to make children do their work for them, so that they (the adults) don't have to be bothered with it.  Because (next lesson) work is always painful and to be avoided.  And life is fundamentally bitter, disappointing, and treacherous.

 

Of course he wouldn't have learned all those things in so many words.  He might not even have been aware of them, certainly not as lessons learned consciously.  But is there any doubt that these are exactly the messages which would have seeped into his emotional life?  I think it is obvious that they would.  What is more, I would be willing to guarantee that something exactly like this actually happened to Wife in real life when she was a little girl living alone with her mother.  In the first place, this is just the kind of thing her mother would have done (another reason it is so easy for me to picture Wife repeating the cycle), with the one difference that there was no other adult to intervene because Wife's parents did not live together.  In the second place, it seems totally consistent with the kinds of messages that Wife herself has internalized about the world.  I don't know, maybe I'm wrong but the whole picture hit me so suddenly and so completely that I bet I'm not.

 

It seems like such a little, insignificant thing.  Probably I am just flattering myself by exaggerating my contribution out of all recognizability.  Is it even possible that consequences so large could come from actions so small?  Maybe not, but it is fascinating to think about.

 



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