This morning, a very cute English couple in their 80's held the door for me, my stroller and my two year old as we entered a coffee shop. They walked with canes and spoke with wonderfully intoxicating English accents. The man asked Henry his name right off and while Henry said it, he whispers so softly that even if he could say "Henry" in an intelligible way, the man never would have heard it. So, I repeated it. The man immediately said, "Wonderful," he knew a Henry the Fourth back in England. A bond was formed.
After we paid for our coffee, cinnamon crunch bagels, and one cream cheese Henry chose a seat very near the couple. It became very clear that they were regulars to the coffee shop and that the man was use to "holding court." Many people stopped to chat with him and those who didn't were drawn into the conversation whether they came with their laptops to enter virtual conversations or chat with the flesh and blood people across from them.
The man had a new topic to address during his rein this morning..Henry, the Second as he was dubbed. He introduced Henry to everyone and my dear son dutifully smiled and shook a few hands. Eventually conversation drew the couple's attention away from us and we began to eat our bagels.
Henry loves to spread his cream cheese by himself. "Me do." And so I let him try. I also let him eat gobs of his cream cheese right off the knife. Today, the "man across the way" looked up just as Henry was about to stick the knife in his mouth. "Henry, that's not how we use knives...you'll cut your mouth," he bellowed over to us.
Henry stopped mid bite. Put the knife down in utter shock and looked up at me. Then he began to whimper. "Why man? Why man?"
Why did the man correct me? Why did the man notice? Why did the man care?
Now, there are plenty of situations where I would have been ticked off by a complete stranger parenting my child, but somehow I was touched and relieved that someone else became the 'heavy' this time. Because let's face it, we aren't suppose to eat cream cheese off our knives. (Gobs of straight cream cheese aren't great for us in general..) It is a lesson he'll have to learn and it probably is best he doesn't learn it by cutting his mouth. And let's be even more honest, I haven't corrected him because it keeps him quiet, allowing me time to get a sip of coffee and a bite of bagel.
I realized that this is what parenting must have been like generations ago..back when people spoke up for everyone's children. For better or worse you got parenting from all adults, not just those who gave birth to you. I also realized the power that a different accent, walking with a cane, wrinkly skin and wild gray hair can have on a young child. At least in Henry's case he paid attention. And Henry rarely pays attention to harsh critique or correction. (He's all about redirection and finding the positive...any rebuff or harsh word is met with deaf ears and a closed mind.) He stopped eating with his knife, casting a quick glance at the man each time he spread his cream cheese on the bagel.
When we finished, Henry took a sticker over to the man and placed it on his coat sleeve. A huge smile from both of them, and a good-bye hand shake, ended the visit. I looked up at the clock and took note of the time of day. Perhaps we'll pop in again around 10:30am next week, the help was much appreciated.
No comments:
Post a Comment