By Joanna M. Owusu

It was an ordinary school night, and I was sitting down to dinner with my boys after putting their baby sister to bed. (Their father works long hours and is rarely home in time for family dinner during the week.) We were talking about our plans for an upcoming long weekend, which included a stay-cation at a local hotel with a new water park. I asked for a show of hands for those ready to brave the big water slide and then raised my hand and said I wanted to try the slide, too. My seven-year-old responded, “But you might clog it up!” and keeled over laughing.

I think my jaw hit the table. Some part of me wanted to chuckle a little. I pictured the cartoony version of this scene, something straight out of Phineas and Ferb, perhaps.

I’m carrying a little extra weight since I had baby #3 at age 39.5. I’m not as svelte as I was before the pregnancy, a fact that has apparently not escaped their notice.

I sat there, dumbfounded for the rest of the meal. At one point, my 9-year-old, ever the sensitive soul, asked me what I was thinking about. He could see that I was a little shaken. I was trying to make sense of what had just happened. I think my second-grader was trying to be funny more than anything. But some part of him must have known this comment was unkind. We’ve had a few incidents where a child commented on someone else’s body size or shape, and we discussed why this could be hurtful and why it’s inappropriate to comment on anyone else’s body. Ever. They understand this.

I honestly think the desire to get a laugh from his brother outweighed (no pun intended) the knowledge that the comment was unkind. The moment belied a loss of innocence that I know is inevitable…I just wasn’t prepared for it quite yet. This was the child who asked me, two short years ago, with visible shock, why I wasn’t president. This was the child who couldn’t tolerate Daddy teasing Mommy or any pretend game where Mommy feigned sadness. I was the sun in the sky for this little one since the day he first said “Mommy.”

I remember reading in a child development book that children are more influenced by their peers than their parents at around age seven. I suppose that’s the tipping point when their desire to impress their friends (or older brother) may be more compelling than all the years we’ve spent instilling a strong set of values in them.

After I recovered from the shock, we had a stern talk. I reiterated to my son that my greatest expectation of him is that he is kind to others. I expect him to work hard and to do well in school. I expect him to adhere to a code of ethics that includes being truthful and honoring commitments. But nothing is more important to his father and me than him being kind to others.

Perhaps we’ll make conversations about kindness a more regular feature in our family discussions. I’ll look for examples in daily life to show him what kindness means. And the sting of that comment will fade as time passes. I suspect the dull ache I feel in my stomach about the loss of his childhood innocence, however, will linger.

And dull ache or no: I’m going down that water slide, dammit.

*****

About the Author

Joanna McFarland Owusu is a freelance writer and researcher based in Dallas, Texas. A federal government analyst in a former life, Joanna now spends her days wrangling two little boys and a toddler daughter. Joanna’s work has appeared on Scarymommy.com and Bluntmoms.com.