I was at the store with my kids on a Saturday evening after a long day of activities. I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to get home and get the kids into bed.

As I was searching for something in one of the aisles, I noticed several people come around the corner into our aisle, one of whom was in a wheelchair.

I smiled, and when it was time to go, I took a few steps toward the checkout -- and heard no footsteps behind me. When I turned around, I found both of my children standing in front of the wheelchair, staring at the girl seated.

Chance asked her, "What is she's name?" Ryehn followed up with the same question.

The girl answered, but we could not understand what she said. The woman accompanying her told us the girl's name was Dana. I was relieved -- no feelings hurt, kids got to inquire, time to go. But they continued. "Why does she talk that way?"

Now I was wondering if this was going to get terribly embarrassing, but at the same time the kids were simply being curious and asking appropriate (though perhaps blunt) questions.

The woman told them Dana had been sick when she little and developed differently than other kids. I could tell this sweet woman had done this before. I tried to get the kids to head to the checkout, but they had a final question: "Will she get better?"

The woman said Dana, who is her daughter, would be like this for the rest of her life, and added that Dana is almost 30 years old. The kids seemed satisfied, and as they walked towards the checkout, I lingered to apologize to the woman, in case we made her uncomfortable.

She insisted that it was no problem, and in fact she prefers children who are curious and eager to learn something, as opposed to those who just stare or point or whisper.

It turned out to be a wonderful experience, but you can never be sure how someone will react to rapid-fire questions from 4-year-olds.

My kids have said a lot of uncomfortable things to strangers. Just today I was standing in a line and Chance blurted out -- as he pointed at the woman the next line over -- "Does that lady have a baby in her belly?"

The answer was ... no. (In all fairness, he's also asked this question of men.)

Both children are also intrigued by moles and tall people -- they refer to them as "giants." And they don't discriminate. Family and friends also find themselves in strange discussions with my children.

I was always afraid of what they were going to say to my mom during her cancer treatments (even though they could have said anything and she would have thought it adorable). Because of all her surgeries, hair loss and declining weight, there was a risk of some odd question surfacing. They were amazed to learn she didn't have a stomach, and we spent an entire visit at Pizza Hut trying to answer their questions on that topic.

I'm not alone. My friends have similar stories, cute and terrifying. It's part of parenting, and being a kid too. I try to take it in stride. Children are curious, constantly learning and seeing the world as it appears before them.

Isn't that a good thing? As we get older, we install filters in our minds and come to understand social taboos, and learn what is "appropriate" to say and do. Part of me thinks this innocence of children, their lack of filters and mufflers is refreshing.

It's a natural process. I'm trying to do right by my children in helping them learn that it's OK to be curious and wonder about things, while at the same time teaching them that some things we say can be hurtful.

As with many things, role modeling is important. Children mimic parents, siblings, teachers, grandparents and others. So in addition to following up on embarrassing encounters with strangers who happen to be overweight, or have large moles on their bodies or who are especially tall or hairy -- I also try to impress upon them how to behave by behaving appropriately myself.

I try to reiterate that pointing is generally never polite, and that it's OK to want to know things and be curious ... but it's generally not appropriate to speak to strangers.

And of course, never ask if someone has a baby in his, or her, belly.

Kym Byrnes writes from Finksburg. Please e-mail her at kymbyrnes@gmail.com.

user comments (0)