Aselin

Today I received some feedback that my writing style was not that entertaining and it was hard to figure out my point. Interesting. The assumption that I have a point is where this reader went wrong. It’s fair criticism since virtually all of my writing is really a conversation with myself and I know what I mean. I know how witty, pithy and deep what I want to say is... the problem is I have to use words.

Words certainly get in the way of all the important things in life. The reality is we have to use words to communicate. We have entered into a social agreement to what the connotation of different letter groupings mean, but the rules can be elusive. How the living language we call English is explained in the dictionary changes from minute to minute. Who knew that one day it would be a compliment to be told your outfit is ‘sick’ or your performance was ‘bad’. To be honest, I’m not hip enough for this slanguage.

The fact is that there are some situations for which words are wholly inadequate. There just aren’t words for the first time I held my newborn baby, the moment I fell in love, the last time I touched the hand of my grandmother before they closed her casket, or the day I saw our neighbor take the trash out in his tightie-whities. Word’s just don’t capture the emotional depth of these moments or the indelible marks they leave.

Words being completely inadequate for their primary function is a tremendous irony. Who among us hasn’t tried to apologize, explain or justify only to have the listener disregard our intent. Having children opens up a whole new facet to the use of language. There is nothing quite as horrible as hearing your children talk like you. Hearing my bossy tone echoed in my firstborn has been a continuing humiliation. Having my sweet little middle child yell at other drivers from his car seat and having my husband ask me where they would learn stuff like that, well it’s hard to feign innocence.

I have a friend who brought her toe-headed toddler to an exclusive pre-school entrance interview, only to have the little darling swear like a sailor. I think everyone is born with a sort of inappropriate radar. Even the tiniest of humans picks up on the naughty words and then blurts them out in places like church. Kids don’t sneak around on the playground saying “ninny” and then giggling uncontrollably. My kids don’t ask me what “fusion” or “genetic splicing” means. They ask me about the words I try not to say.

Recently we had an ‘incident.’ Having three kids pretty close together means two things: At any given time I have two informants for the third kid AND that at any moment they can turn on me like a pack of rabid wolves. Luckily they have not done the math and figured out that they outnumber their parents. Sitting at dinner unnamed child #1 said “Mom, unnamed child #2 said the “S” word today!” Scott immediately gave me the stink eye which I tried to avoid. Yes, they learned the “S” word from me... He launched in to a passionate discourse of why we shouldn’t say that word, how it demeans us as individuals and is disrespectful to those around us. His presentation was punctuated by weighted pauses giving him time to glare at me.

The offending child was appropriately remorseful, weepy and contrite. After apologizing and begging our forgiveness unnamed child #2 promised they would never, ever, ever say the word “stupid” again.

Word.