During Young Men's class, they were trying to discuss the differences between men and women and how each gender compliments and completes the other, given their individual and independent roles. The particular phrase they were using was "Your dad can do some things better than your mother and your mother can do some things better than your dad." Now, just to set the stage, it is important for you to note that the new member of our stake presidency happened to be visiting and was attending the young men's class. He was the one expressing the point. Drew, as the Bishop was also in the class. When our stake presidency member said to the class, "Your mom is better at some things than your dad," my son Speedy turned to his father and said, "Mom is more intelligent than you." But our son Shorty quietly said, "Ya' Mom's better at yelling!"
To which our stake presidency member said, "You mean they both yell, but your mother is better at it?" And Shorty agreed.
Now, if you know me at all, you know I am not a yeller. I grew up in a yelling household and determined long ago that I was not going to be a yelling person and I don't do it. Period. Drew doesn't do it either. He also grew up in a yelling household and neither of us yell. Here is a secret: My kids do not know what yelling is. They have never heard it. Seriously. But they are sure what they have experienced, raised or stern voices, constitutes yelling.
Just to make the point more clearly, Shorty actually had a teacher yell in class one time and it upset him so much he started crying in class and then to cover up the fact that he was crying, he told the teacher that he was having an asthma attack and couldn't breath. She sent him to the office. They called me to come and pick him up. He was fine when I arrived, but I took him home anyway. After forty-five minutes I finally got out of him what had happened in the classroom. That is how sensitive Shorty is to yelling.
However, the newest member of our stake presidency doesn't know that much about me or Drew. So now, he, along with anyone else in the class, believes I am better at yelling than my husband. Great!
When Drew got home on Sunday, he said to me, "Did your son confess?"
"Confess to what?"
And then he told me the story. It took me a minute to have the feelings sink in and then for me to evaluate them, knowing that I shouldn't allow them to be hurt, but knowing that they were. I then had a decision to make, how should I speak to Shorty about what happened so that it doesn't happen again?
I was pretty sure if he knew that my feelings had been hurt, his would be hurt. He is a fairly sensitive guy.
So Drew and I were discussing something else with the other kids around and Shorty walked in and Drew informed him that he needed to apologize to me. He was confused, so Drew explained with the others listening in. As he got to the point of Shorty's comment, Sport yells from across the room, "Dishonor!!! Dishonor in my Famiry!!!" Drew and I started laughing. Scuff bonked Shorty on the head with a plastic baseball bat--not enough to even hurt him. But as we were all laughing, Shorty's feelings were hurt.
I spent the next hour trying to get Shorty to speak to me about his feelings. It was a lot of work.
I think I am just going to have to live with the member of our stake presidency believing I am better at yelling than my husband. Oh well. I guess sometimes we all have to face 'Dishonor in our famiry!"