Lack of Tact

While Julia can occasionally speak of inappropriate things in public (like telling her swim teacher "My mom peed on the floor"), she is generally pretty aware of what things are meant to be said in private and what can be said in front of others.

Not at all so with Madeleine.  No tact with that kid.  Absolutely none.

Sometimes she can be well intentioned.  She has heard Julia comment on Madeleine's ample cheeks, which Julia always refers to as "plop cheeks."  I don't remember the evolution of this term, but it has become a staple term in this house to describe Madeleine's delectable, plump little cheeks.  Fine to talk about in the home.  Maybe not so great in this instance:

ME: (in the middle of running a music session with the kids in Madeleine's preschool class) Baby shark, doo doo, doo doo doo doo, baby-
MADELEINE: (pointing to another kid in the circle) Mama!  PLOP cheeks!



Now, since Madeleine means "plop cheeks" as a compliment, that one is relatively harmless.  But sometimes she is even more clueless.  Today I had to substitute teach in the younger preschool class at Madeleine's school, and she came along to help me out.  And this happened:

LEAD TEACHER: Okay, kids, everyone make a line and follow me out to the playground.
MADELEINE: (walking with me at the end of the line) The little kids are so CUTE!
ME: I know, aren't they?
MADELEINE: Except...(pointing at a boy in front of us in line) That boy is really kind of CREEPY looking because of his FACE.
ME: (loudly, starting to talk over the end of her sentence) YEAH, HE'S SUPER CUTE TOO!

OMG, Madeleine.

Then there are situations like last night, in which we sat amongst the other swim team parents watching Julia's practice session through the window to the pool.

EVERYONE IN THE WAITING AREA: (silence)
MADELEINE: (out of the blue) Mama?  How ELSE do you get a HERNIA?
ME: Uh...well they're mostly from lifting something that's too heavy.

Silence in the waiting area.

MADELEINE: Mama?  What does a hernia LOOK LIKE?
ME: Um, it looks sort of like a lump coming out of your body.
MADELEINE: Mama?  Do you have any PICTURES of hernias?
ME: I don't.

Silence in the waiting area.

MADELEINE: Mama?  What does a hernia FEEL like?
ME: They hurt.
MADELEINE: Mama?  Do they hurt MORE than a shot?
ME: Well, probably.
MADELEINE: But Mama?  What does a hernia HURT like?
ME: Well, I don't know.  I've never had one.

Silence in the waiting area.

MADELEINE: Mama?  How come if I had a hernia and I went to school, all my friends would be like, "Eeeew, can you take that DISGUSTING thing OFF?"
ME: Uhh...

Silence in the waiting area

MADELEINE: Mama?  Do you know any OTHER ways you can get a hernia?
ME: Well, how about we look it up tomorrow on my computer.
MADELEINE: But Mama?  Can you tell me MORE STUFF about hernias?
ME: I don't really know about hernias that much.  We'll read all about it tomorrow.

I really wonder what all the other swim parents thought about the fact that my five-year-old spent half the practice asking questions about hernias.  At least she wasn't asking questions about diarrhea or menstruation or something less crowd-friendly.

So, true to my word, today I sat down with Madeleine at my computer and we read all about hernias.  She even wanted to see pictures.

MADELEINE: Uh, can we look at MORE pictures of hernias, because questions don't ESCRIVE what it looks like very much.

I can't wait for her to loudly ask, sometime, out in public: "Mama?  Can you show me pictures of HERNIAS again?"

Or maybe, as she gets older, she will actually learn to have at least SOME discretion!  Fingers crossed so tightly I might give myself a hernia!