Children are desperate to know they make us proud. Perhaps even more importantly, we as parents should be acting in ways that allow OUR CHILDREN SHOULD BE DESPERATE to make us proud.

Stinky Breath Taught Me a Very Valuable Parenting Lesson

It was 9 o’clock on a weekday evening. My 13-year-old and I were on the couch. He was watching TV. I was pretending to read but working harder to keep from dozing off. It’s a nightly habit my kids enjoy teasing me about.

I knew it was time for our younger boys to head to bed. I turned to the one sitting next to me:

“Hey bud, did you brush your teeth yet?”

“Yep,” he said, eyes glued to the screen.

I hadn’t seen him leave the couch in the last 45 minutes, and I knew he’d just finished a bowl of yogurt. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I thought maybe I’d drifted off for a minute and missed it. Maybe…

“Are you sure?” I asked.

No answer, but a small twitch told me he’d heard me. Hmmmm?

If you’re a parent, you know this feeling—tired, out of patience, wishing there was a smooth way to end the night and avoid the dentist’s wrath next month.

I had a few options:

• The Tactical Route: “Let me smell your breath!” Confirm the lie. Send him off to brush.
  
  
• The Angry Route: Pop off like someone cut you off in traffic: “YOU DIDN’T BRUSH! I KNOW YOU’RE LYING!” Threaten punishment and/or bodily harm.
  
  
• The Easy Route: Pretend you didn’t notice. Send him to bed. Hope for the best.

But I realized there was a fourth option—one that might teach me something deeper: 

The Meaningful Route.

“Hey man,” I said, “I’m pretty sure you didn’t brush your teeth. But I don’t think you’re lying because you want to lie. I think you just want me to be proud of you. And you’d rather risk a small fib than risk disappointing me.”

I paused, then finished.

“I understand how you might feel. And knowing I’m proud of you feels better than the guilt of lying.”

He half-smiled, a little sheepish. “Yep,” he said quietly.

“Thanks for telling the truth. Let’s brush our teeth.”

A few minutes later, I laid with him in bed for a short while…fresh breath and all. He drifted off peacefully, and we both knew.

Children are desperate to know they make us proud. Perhaps even more importantly, we as parents should be acting in ways that allow our children to be desperate to make us proud.

It took me a patient minute to see the “why” behind his little lie. The easy, angry reaction could have cost me that understanding.

Slow down. Eliminate the noise. Limit the chaos. Look beyond the stinky breath. 

Often, what you see on the surface isn’t the whole story.

Remain encouraged,
- Brian

PS. If you know him, ask my own dad, Larry, about a time when his patience ran thin. I was 11 or 12 years old. He barged through the door of my bedroom at a high rate of speed and a thundering voice to let me know about “some things around here that are going to change!” 

I’d really never seen him yell. I’m actually not sure if I’ve ever seen him upset.  But I must have really taken him over the edge that evening, because he was "primed."

Three minutes later, he came back into my room, calmly, and apologized.  We have a better relationship to this day, not only because of that evening, but because of his humility, my willingness to improve, and our desire to show grace. 

Truth be told, I still want him to be proud of me.  And he still tells me.

For those of us who screw up at parenting regularly…there is rarely anything done that can’t be undone. Give yourself some grace.