Kids and Etiquette?
Oh, Please.
Written By Brett Paesel
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Not in Public
I'm visiting a friend when her 3-year-old son runs into the living room, where we are having tea. Playfully, I say, "Oooh. Look who's naked."
"Don't say that," my friend admonishes through clenched teeth. "I don't want him to have any body shame."
I'm confused. I simply made an observation, without judgment, in much the same way I might have said, "Look at your blue shirt." One day, surely, the boy must learn there's a distinct difference between being nude and clothed. I mean, in the adult world, not only is it rude to run around naked, at most public functions it's illegal.
Weeks later I'm at a kids' pool party where a friend's young son sits, naked, examining himself while the adults eat sandwiches nearby. His mother, who'd have no qualms about telling him not to pick his nose, pointedly ignores his activity while the rest of us look off in various directions.
Later, on the phone, I say to another friend, "Why didn't Anne tell him to go inside or put some pants on?"
"Brett," says my friend, "that would have drawn attention to his behavior."
"It was hard to miss."
"Plus, I'm sure she didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable."
"So it's better to put a group of six mothers off their lunch?"
Not that I have all the answers. I too am concerned about raising my boys to feel at home in their bodies, assured their sexuality is a wonderful thing. But, like it or not, putting one's hand in one's pants is as private an activity as picking one's teeth or popping a pimple. Spence might as well learn that now because by a certain age those who haven't learned it have a hard time getting dates.
In Deference to DifferenceMy close friend and I gab at a kid-friendly restaurant as our boys play with toy cars and stickers.
"Simon," my friend says to her son, "take your feet off the banquette."
Simon makes a defiant face but complies. Spencer's feet are on the banquette too. Normally I wouldn't make a big deal of this. Kids run around this place like crazy. By comparison, ours are being quite well behaved. It also passes through my mind that my friend doesn't seem to care about Simon's prolific swearing — but boy, oh boy, those feet on the banquette!
"Spence. You too," I say. And I'm grateful when he slides his feet to the floor.
I'm supporting my friend's edict, not because it makes sense to me but because I know that her value system concerning manners is as complicated as mine. It's a patchwork of inherited traditions, personal bias, contemporary psychology, and convenience. She will make different choices than I. But what we want for our children is the same. We want them to be heard and respected. We want them to be welcome in any room. We want them to be spoken of highly. That way, in the event they choose to become brutal dictators, their rise to global domination will be a smooth one.
About the Author
Brett Paesel is the author of Mommies Who Drink: Sex, Drugs, and Other Distant Memories of an Ordinary Mom, now in paperback. She is currently writing a thank- you note to her mother-in-law for providing half the material in this article.
Plus: But why? Where etiquette rules come from
