Some of us have more trouble than others admitting when we’re wrong.
I may be one of them.
Like the time I got a parking ticket at the university for parking at a meter that had a “No Parking” bag over it. I just thought it didn’t mean I’d have to pay (it was dark, after all).
Imagine my surprise finding a ticket on my windshield when I returned. I was appalled that they would do such a thing to me. So I refused to pay. My wife suggested I was being a little stubborn, but I challenged the ticket and won the appeal.
“Just remember, sir,” said the parking lady over the phone, “that in the future, the no parking bags do mean no parking allowed.”
“Yes, I’ll remember,” I responsed rather thoughtlessly, still not admitting to my wrong.
My daughter reminded me of myself the other day. Now I don’t want to pre-judge her character at the tender age of four, but it is interesting when you see a little of yourself in them. As it turns out, she may share a few of the same tendencies.
While picking raspberries a couple days ago, I noticed her chewing on something. So I asked her what it was. She responded that it was a rhubarb leaf. I raised my tone and told her to spit it out, not knowing if it was safe to eat or not. She calmy replied, “But Mommy said it was okay to eat rhubarb leaves.” I raised my voice and told her again to spit it out, after which she calmy swallowed and repeated, “Mommy said it was okay.”
Sometimes a four-year-old can be quite convincing, so I thought little of it until we got home and told Mommy. I was then informed that rhubarb leaves are in fact poisonous. This prompted immediate panic, an extensive internet search, and a call to poison control. (Who knew that rhubarb leaves can cause extensive kidney damage?)
The Poison Control Centre, a number I’ve never had to call before, was quite helpful. A very nice man told me she would likely be okay with the small amount she ingested, but to watch for any signs of poisoning over the next 24 hours. All right then – now to drill into our child’s head to never do that again.
Now I’m not sure if most parenting books recommend rebuking a child for not listening to something you told her two hours ago, but we made it pretty clear that she should never eat something she finds outside without asking if it’s safe first.
After a moderate tongue-lashing from the both of us, I started to question how much was really sinking in. “But I can still have a little bit, right?” she asked later as I got her ready for her bath.
“No, Sonya,” I said, as sternly as possible, “you can’t eat any rhubarb leaves – they’re poisonous and they’ll make you sick.”
“But just a little bit is okay, right?” she continued. “A little bit today and the next day and the next day…”
“No, Sonya, not even little bit is okay.”
“But the man said it was okay, right?”
All right, she had a point there, but was this really something to argue further? All the sudden I sounded a lot like the woman I talked to on the phone five years ago. “Just remember, sir, the no parking bags do mean no parking.”
Now even though I didn’t admit it at the time, I knew in the back of my mind that I was wrong. And to my credit, I haven’t parked at those “bagged” meters since (yes, I know, that deserves a big pat on the back). And even though my daughter puts up a good argument, probably for the sake of arguing, I’m pretty sure she won’t be touching those rhubarb leaves anymore.
Sometimes lessons are learned the hard way. And sometimes we get off easy, but learn the lessons anyway.
That’s great news for those of us who, at times, have a little trouble admitting when we’re wrong.
With some things "a little bit" just doesn't work! tooo bad... :))
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