They're Watching You

Griffin is what you might call, a nosy boy.  If there is a conversation going on within his earshot, he wants to know what it’s about and if he’s the subject of it.  He comes by it honestly, though.  His mother is much the same way.  I remember our earlier days of dating, when we’d go to a restaurant and I’d be talking to her only to see a glazed look come over her face, as she eavesdropped on other people’s conversations.  You might be tempted to say that it’s because what I have to say is utterly boring, but since you’re still reading this blog, I’d submit that that simply can’t be the case.

Anyhow, she’s paying for her raising now.  Our little nosy one will listen in and ask questions, even if she’s just talking on the phone with other people.  It’s gotten to irritate her so much that she’s taken to responding like so:

My wife (on the phone): So that’s what we were looking at doing on Tuesday.

Griffin:  What are we doing, Mommy?

My wife: Griffin, I am not talking to you, I am on the phone with Aunt Neen.

Griffin:  Did you say we’re going somewhere?

My wife:  I told you, I’m talking with Aunt Neen.  Is your name Aunt Neen?

Griffin:  No.

My wife:  Okay.  Go on.

And that usually ends things.

Now, for the rest of the story.  A number of months ago, we were on our way to church one bright Sunday Morning.  As we passed by the water department, Griffin spotted a large line of pristinely yellow bulldozers and said, “Hey daddy, look at those.”

I was busy driving, and half paying attention to him, so I didn’t respond in a timely manner, prompting him to repeat himself.

At this point, my wife jumped in and said, “Yeah, honey.  There are a lot of them.”

There was silence for a fraction of a second, and then from the backseat we hear, “Is your name Daddy?”

There’s no feeling quite like being utterly gob smacked from hearing your words issue forth out of a toddlers mouth.  We were speechless, which was also interpreted as an unacceptable response by the boy.  A little more loudly he pressed for an answer, “I said.  Is your name Daddy?”

At this point, our minds began to process rational thought again, and I quickly jumped in to inform him that his words were leaning toward the disrespectful, sassy side of things.  He seemed to grasp the concept, yet still to this day, navigating the words and speech patterns that are deemed too sassy is a very tricky arena.  The only thing I know to do is intercept the situations where he is being disrespectful and show him a better way to express his thoughts and feelings.  I’m hoping with enough practice, his little mind will make the connections.

For now, though, it’s a sobering thought to know that they are listening to everything you say and how you say it.  The old adage is true, “What goes into the well comes up in the bucket.”