Lost in Translation

written by Judy Merrill Larsen

I admit, as my sons were growing up, I had some well-worn responses I'd use to avoid conflict. Especially when they were under the age of 10, saying, "We'll see" and "Let me think about it" rather than "No! Do I look like I've completely lost my friggin' mind?" could often buy me some time during which they'd forget about their ridiculous requests. Requests like:

~Next Halloween can I shave off all my hair and paint myself green?
~Can we have rabbits/lizards/goats/horseys/more puppies/turtles/an ant farm?
~Would it be okay if sometime I ate only bacon for an entire week? And green olives?
~Should I tell grandma that we had strawberry shortcake for dinner and you counted it as dairy and vegetable?

I mean, kids are kids, right? And they ask questions at the rate of about one per nanosecond. And, even though my sons are smart as whips (natch), it took them years to ascertain that I was saying "No, no and damn no!" So, I avoided lots of tantrums. They also knew that, if they kept repeating the request, always at louder volume each time (like that would change my mind), I'd be forced to say, "Look, if you insist on an answer right this minute, I'll have to say 'no'."

That showed them.

(And, yes, I know they had their own "euphemisms." I know that when #1 Son was older and muttered "whatever" when walking out of the room after I'd just explained why he couldn't/had to do something in detail to him, he didn't mean "whatever." I do believe he meant a particular two-word phrase that still can't be said on network television. But I digress.)

And then we evolved. As they got older and went out into the world, they got savvier. So I came up with new lines. They weren't so much asking for my permission but my approval. I started saying, "Well, see what you can work out" or "Come up with the details and we'll talk." And I'd turn and smile, knowing I was safe. Because of course I was still saying "No. Absolutely not. Do you think I've taken complete leave of my senses?" And I knew they'd never get a handle on all the nitty-gritty details so their pie-in-the-sky plans would never come to fruition.

Except they did.

Last fall, #1 Son asked if I'd mind if he and some buddies took two weeks and hiked the Appalachian Trail after graduation. "Get me the details," I said. He did. He even e-mailed me the itinerary. He'll be home sometime later this week.

Last month, #2 Son said he didn't really like the car we'd handed down to him and would it be okay of he traded it in and bought something else. "See what you can work out, " I said. He did. He's now the proud owner of a 1995 Jeep. He got a better trade-in value than I'd seen on Kelley's Blue Book.

They sure showed me.

(Oh, and on the off chance they see this, can I just point out that when they leave the house for the evening and I call after them, "Make good choices" that's not a euphemism. I mean it. Please, take me at my word.)