Completely Uncool

I watched the Hawaina boys today: the four sons of my cousin Kanada. I adore them. They are so full of fun, ideas, energy, and desire. Atrain looks forwards to every opportunity to be with them; he watches them so closely and wants so much to be a full fledged member of their inner circle whenever we are there. The Hawaina boys are good boys--worthy of his adoration. Whenever we are there the boys always make Atrain feel like the coolest cousin around.

But today a very uncool moment made me swell with angst and anger. It wasn't the boys' fault. It was a nosy little neighbor girl that made me feel like a roaring, mean mother bear. After lunch I let the boys open the front door and ride their scooters around the sidewalk circle while I washed off a few dishes. It didn't take me long--maybe three minutes before I joined them. But, the moment I walked through the door I regretted every minute: there was Atrain, standing still on his scooter, looking down at the sidewalk while a nine(ish) year old girl examined his implants while cousin Gav stood nearby.

"Hey!" I shouted, with probably a little more force than necessary. Immediately the two older kids looked my way and guilt swept over their faces. They took their hands off Atrain's cochlears and my little man rode away. But, I pursued the situation, trying to control fire burning in my mind. "What are you doing, guys?" I said, with a contrived calm tone. "She asked, 'what are those things,' so I told her about his cochlears," said eight year old Gav. I looked at the little girl and said curtly, "Did you ask Atrain for permission to touch him?" She gave me a sheepish smile and said, "No." I responded with a blunt, angry tone, "You never do that. It's really rude to touch anyone's cochlears without asking. It's like me sticking my finger in your ear without permission--and still I would never do that."

She looked a little sorry, but something in me mead me want to grab her elbow and stomp her over to her front door to let her mother know what had just happened. But I held back on account of her being just a curious kid; but as I write this I'm wondering if I should have pounded on her front door and congratulated her mother for raising such a rude child. But I didn't know her mother, and I didn't want Atrain to see me making even more of a scene. Further embarrassment on his part was unnecessary. And I could tell by the way he rode his scooter away from the scene of the crime that he was unsure of what to think about what had just happened, and needed a good, loving conversation about saying "no" when others touch us in unwarranted ways.

So, I said to the little girl, "Please don't ever do that again, to anyone whose body looks a little different than yours." And then she responded with the absolute worst phrase a sorry little girl could have muttered, "He has a hearing problem, right? That poor little boy." I was astonished. "What?!" I said, confused and surprised again by her stupid remark. "Did you even talk to him? Probably not, because if you did you would have noticed that he can talk and hear as well as you." And then I stopped myself, realizing that I was taking the whole thing a little too personally.

But how could I not? I hate moments like that. I hate knowing that there will be more of them--especially more when I will not be there to scold the ignorant little gremlins. I know it's rude for me to speak that way about another child, but I don't care right now. Every chance I get when Atrain and I are asked questions about his cochelars, I try to defer the answer to him with hopes that it will help build his confidence to respond to curious kids in the future. But I guess we need to revise our game plan to screen for the inevitable impolite, improper and downright rude comments and gestures. Too bad I can't screen him from everything forever.

The husband swore when I told him what happened, and then agreed that we need a family home evening lesson next week about self respect, and what to do when others don't respect your self. I need some good resources. I'm looking forward to it.