[It’s fun to look back on my column from twenty-some years ago. Now my boys are sporting their own piercings and, as always, question anything that doesn’t seem relevant. And our town is refreshingly UN-ethnocentric now.]

This morning as we were having breakfast, the sound of a cement mixer interrupted the conversation I was having with my husband. Upon closer examination (although the resemblance with mouth open was astonishing), we realized that it was our middle son Tim, accompanying the chewing of his toast with a very audible, if fluctuating, hum. Rick promptly directed him not to open his mouth when eating. Tim, always obedient if it can be made into a joke, looked directly at his Dad and with a smirk, kept his lips pursed and tried to shove his toast into his mouth. Flushing away all of Dad’s effort at teaching Tim some manners, I nearly choked on my toast as I snickered uncontrollably.

It occurred to me later in the day that in the whole business of teaching our three sons some manners, it’s probably going to get a lot worse before it gets better. The situation is even more serious if they can succeed in making Mom and Dad laugh when we’re supposed to be stern. The trouble with etiquette is that a lot of it doesn’t make sense to a child. If spaghetti is served, why can’t it be thoroughly enjoyed with all aspects of the face and hands, as well? Why do you have to say “excuse me” when your body performs an uncontrollable function? Why do you have to say “thank you” for a gift you don’t like? Why can’t you stare at the person with multiple body piercings in apparently awkward places? Wasn’t that the whole point? So that people will notice?

Then there’s the whole realm of political correctness. In our primarily ethno-centric community, it’s always a point of fascination for my kids to see someone different than them. Although television helps, real life is no contest. It’s hard to tell a small child that they shouldn’t bring up a person’s color or nationality to them, not to mention size, disability, length of hair or choice of clothing, because the person might find it offensive. In a child’s reasoning, the obvious question is: “Why?” If that’s what the person is, what’s the big deal talking about it?

If kids were always perfect, polite and politically correct, “Kids Say the Darndest Things” wouldn’t have gone past the pilot episode. And lots of magazines will pay good money for you to repeat the very thing about your child that at one moment exasperated you and made you laugh the next. As one mother related when trying to get her demanding daughter to ask nicely for a book, the little girl blurted out impatiently, “Please, excuse me, thank you and God bless!”

Fortunately, most people happily excuse a child’s curiosity and their fumbled attempts at politeness. But just in case, it might not be a bad idea to teach them a blanket statement like that one!