On Saturday night, with my many dysfunctional anxieties on high alert, I opted to try on clothes to wear for Back to School night, which occurs this week. So, as JT drowned monsters and soaked in his bubble bath, I appeared in the doorway over and over again checking out some clothing options in the full-length mirror.
JT learned early that this particular behavior on the part of his mama demands a steady stream of innocuous compliments and advice. "That color is nice on you"; "I like those shoes"; "that skirt fits well" and so on and so forth. He steadily offers these platitudes up in the appropriate tone of voice: concern tinged with sincerity, so that I actually believe him. He's gotten so good at it that when he suggested that he didn't like the neckline cut of a particular sweater (a turned v-neck), I actually stopped and looked more closely: maybe it did make my short neck look even shorter?
It may be said of me that though I try my best, I am not a perfect mother. No doubt I've screwed up my kid on any number of fronts. But one day, when he is someone's husband, and that someone asks "does this make my butt look big?" my son will hear that question and instinctively know to answer in his most reassuring, steady voice, "No, honey. It makes your butt look great."
I'm telling you right now: that life skill is worth its weight in gold.
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