Nobody Likes a Rhymer

I don’t speak in clichés or sayings; at least not on purpose.

“Nobody likes a rhymer,” my son reminded me this morning. 

Maybe I do at times speak in circles, parables, rhymes.  At times it seems the most direct way to talk to a six year old is through stories, songs, misrepresentations and fabrications.  I tend to prefer conversing with my children in terms I think they can understand—which isn’t to say that they always understand what I’m saying—just that I think that they do, or will, or should.

I also realize our communication is not always governed by the truth but by representations of the truth (usually mine). I find there are many intangibles and parameters.

“Are we going to the rec center before we go home?” My littest asks, again.  We discussed this already, only moments before: after we run errands we will stop by the rec center to see what time he can play there. We discussed it while running from one store to the next store and again while strolling down one aisle after another.  So when we got in the car I was surprised at the question.

 At 40 there are many stops between now and in a minute. At six there are less.

To communicate effectively my son and I need to define how many stops “one more” really means and how long “in a minute” is.

After all, nobody likes a rhymer—unless they’re telling a rhyme.


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