The Bear bursts in the door, smelling of snow and kindergarten and sees her great-aunt, visiting from Paraguay. “I sure haven’t seen you for a long, long time,” she says. I make introductions, not knowing whether Bear really remembers great-aunt or not.
The Bug giggles and says, “I don’t think I remember you.” Little Jon-boy walks in, gets his booster chair and starts pushing it to the table. A man of few words, he just knows it is lunch time and he’s hungry.
One of the refreshing things about small children is they tell it just like it is. Yes, we get interrupted and told much we maybe didn’t need to know, but there is no guile in these little people. Lunch is a running commentary.
“Why are there nuts in my grapefruit?” No, those are seeds
“There is corn in my chili. Mommy doesn’t put corn in chili.” I like corn in my chili, you like corn, so just eat it.
“ I have to have the blue cup. SHE can have the pink one because she’s little.” Oh really?
Some days the plain talk is about me. Like the day Bug told me I smelled old. When I asked for clarification, she looked puzzled and said I dunno, maybe it is your shampoo.
A checker game with Bear ensues after lunch. Bear believes that she should win, hands down and is a little shocked when her pieces disappear off the board in rapid succession.
“You are taking all my pieces. How can I win if you keep jumping me?”
“How can you learn to play,” I counter, “if I let you just win and don’t teach you strategy?”
Bear looks over at the great-aunt, now playing trucks with Jon-boy. “I bet she’d let me win.”
“You don’t want to play with her,” I say. “She’s more competitive than I am.”
In the end, we play two games, and on the second I do some massaging of her technique. At five, I do not expect checker prowess or great strategy, but I will speak plainly, and not just allow her to break all the rules so she can win. Life doesn’t work that way, and it is a poor orientation to reality.
Plain speaking goes both directions. It comes from the very young, and they need to learn how to be polite. It comes from the older adults and they need to speak with grace. But plain speaking is essential to learning character, and I want these children to have character. Their parents are leading them in godly thinking, and it’s my job to reinforce that with godly mentoring, not sabotage what goes on at home.
As they head out the door, Bear turns to the great-aunt. “Are you going to be here tomorrow? I want to see you again, you know.” Plain speaking. Well spoken. Polite. Gracious.
