say YES! to halitonic

This past Saturday morning as I was brushing Zoe's hair, her facial expressions suggested that she was experiencing some discomfort. This discomfort slowly turned into disgust, and then downright despair. She finally put her hands over her mouth and nose and exclaimed (hesitantly, but confidently), "I can't take it any more! Your breath smells terrible!" I laughed, acknowledging that I was quite sure she was 100% correct, then told her (face pointing away from her, mouth barely open) that it was a bit rude to tell someone they have terrible breath. She quickly responded, "I can't lie, can I?" Dagger. As I have discussed previously, we have worked with Zoe quite a bit to overcome her predisposition to lying. She has done really well...so well in fact, that she now has a keen sense of honesty and dishonesty, and will call us on it regularly ("Daddy, that joke was kind of a lie."). But, does this quest for honesty quell the necessity to "bear it courteously" all the time? Experience tells me...yes.

Many people are liars, and Lori and I are no exception. Zoe gets it honestly, because we both occasionally (all the time?) lie to spare others' feelings, or get out of things gracefully. We end up breathing peoples' breath as the situation becomes more uncomfortable for everyone involved--particularly when that same person walks away with the same hot stinking breath, ready to invade the nasal cavity of his next victim (thereby passing the discomfort along for them to "deal with it" or causing them to lie if they are indeed prone to the same pansiness). A simple, honest response is neglected in favor of overly-complicated commentary which is both rambling and ridiculous (and needless to say, disingenuous). Additionally, these fibs can also backfire with the people who are closest to us. Knowing that we have this tendency, they either catch us in our lies, or mistakenly presume we are lying when really, this time, we are telling the truth. Truthfully. Telling someone their breath smells with a wink and a smile is way less tedious and damaging in the long run, since the hurt feelings (if there are any) are on the front end, and quickly resolve as opposed to the delayed and prolonged resentment which are the always-in-season fruit of dishonesty for both the liar and the lied to.

Human behavior is way more complex than halitosis, but surely honesty--when kindly and sincerely framed--is more than a cover-up mint, it is preventative medicine. Although, (and I don't say this to validate my own behavior) we all know people who say everything they think (who by some definitions are very honest), and are completely unpleasant to be around (maybe because they lack the "kind and sincere" framing I mention above?). So, I'm not quite ready to embrace radical honesty, but I would consider it a huge victory if we can somehow teach this precarious and delicate dance of polite probity to our children. An ideal worth striving for.

As a result of Zoe's honesty, I've begun brushing my teeth with regularity and am extraordinarily careful when breathing around her. And Lori started kissing me again. Now if that doesn't get me to believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent and in doing good to all men, I don't know what will.

_______________________________________________________


*for a hysterical (and mildly profane) article on one man's experiment living by the code of radical honesty, check this out. By the very funny author of "The Know it All" and "A Year of Living Biblically."

D! see?

Dear Brennan,

Some day in the future, one of your little sisters will undertake a life transition/adventure which will provide an opportunity for you to assist her. Your presence will calm her, your jokes will buoy her, and your strength will sustain her. Your assistance will be lauded by your mom and me, and while you'll be tempted to let this occur quietly, your need to publicly proclaim your goodness will drive you to share what you have done with the rest of the cyber-world. You are a great brother, and I'm glad you will do this (the service part, not the self-involved proclamation part).

On an unrelated note, last week I drove your Aunt Maggie out to Washington D.C. where she is beginning the next chapter of her life. I carried her suitcase, drove her car, set her up on a date...and in general provided a calming presence, told buoying jokes, and granted sustaining strength *. Here are the mathematics of the trip:

$100 for food
+
Dad's homemade rolls
+
the one-way Mexi-nazi
+
my materialistic fast (ummmm?)
+
Tortilla Flat
+
West Virginia snow storm (not a euphemistic Deliverance reference)
+
Frenchables
+
Comfy bed (me)
+
Sofa (Maggie)
+
Holden
+
Green Juice
+
True Grit
+
Hair * Tights * Men's Bathroom (me being mistaken for a woman)
+
Normal Rockwell
+
sorry, the Ford's Theater is closed (but we're from IL!)
+
Lincoln (we're from IL!)
+
Don Draper
+
The Teen Witch
____________

= Bye, Maggie. Hope you find your husband (in my best Narwhalian voice).

If you need help interpreting any of the obscure references above, drop Maggie an email at maggieafranz@gmail.com. She has some free time in the nation's capital between feeding the dog and protecting the Escalade from bored teenagers. Or, you can just wait for her to blog my praises for selfless and silent service.

* in reality, there was nothing "service" about this trip. I got to hang out with one of my best friends...my sister Maggie. I enjoyed every second of the trip, and I'm lucky to have such smart, cute, and funny sisters. She had to endure me...and that endurance continues as I satirize our cross-country adventure. Love you, Mags.