Talk, talk

“We have to talk.”

With these four words, my kids are terrified. You can see it on their faces.

“Are we in trouble?”

Now, it seemed evident that I wasn't happy. The children didn't have to be mind readers to guess that how that Thing We Are Not Going To Talk About Now was handled. But they were not in so-called “trouble.” 

Still, they were not comforted by the sound of reason and reassurance.

And it didn’t matter that I had said the words calmly and without emotion.

Perhaps that just made the waiting part worse.

Most humans, even small ones, understand that the formal announcement of a management conference (especially after a minor dust-up and a not-so-minor period of silence) means the boss has had time to think and perhaps decide a course of action. And that a course of action so quietly and carefully deliberated is unlikely to be overruled by any person higher up the ladder.

There must be wiggle room. We are well into this new millennium, and there is always wiggle room.

“Are you mad?”

Now, ordinarily, any assurances I make that I am not seething with rage will be gobbled up by my family with a serving of relief. But I can tell this time they are hoping I will answer in the affirmative.

If I am angry, they still have leverage. The accused could explain their side, and admit where it may have fallen short. The culprit can then apologize and be forgiven. After which we can all move on to dessert with a scoop of someone promising to be better.

The meal can continue to the games portion of the evening.

But I’m not angry.

I’m not hurt.

And I’m not offering forgiveness.

I most certainly do not want to play any games.

I will see their gloomy faces and raise them a white flag.

“I’m done playing. I quit.”

I know my power rests in choosing the right battles, but there are just too many skirmishes within our ranks.

This surrender doesn’t mean they’ve won. It doesn’t even mean I’ve lost.

All it says is that someone isn’t playing fairly.

Maybe she’s a sore winner?

Maybe he’s a terrible loser?

There's even the genuine possibility that the person not playing by the rules is yours truly.

It’s more than likely that each of us can make a case that every one of use has been taken for granted.

It could mean the kitchen looks like it’s been through an earthquake.

Or that socks are all over the floor.

How many times do I have to tell you to brush your teeth?

Or that praise has been withheld where it should have been free-flowing.

I shouldn't need to ask, but I might have acknowledged.

So many reasons ...

Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it either. If I were able to nip all these buds, there’d be no tree.

So maybe we don’t have to talk after all.