No shame

It really makes me laugh how little kids somehow manage to ignore or have not yet become accustomed to society norms. It's almost like they just do and say whatever comes to mind until the (inevitable) but unfortunate day comes when their impulsive act is crucified mercilessly by the harshest critics of all - other kids.

The poor blighters blissfully sail through a pre-school age life where it is perfectly acceptable to run around in the nude, pick your nose and eat it and leave the house proudly displaying a food stained face. One recent incident in my house comes to mind that was a perfect example of an uncensored view of a 3 year old girl. Miss E has an older brother, and thus enjoys the company of his mates, to the point where she thinks they're coming around to visit her (because, of course, it is the pushing the baby doll in the pram and a tea party they've come to take part in and not a raucous wrestling game on the trampoline). On this particular day Miss E exited the toilet and proudly announced to a regular playmate of her brother, "I wouldn't go in there - I just did a big poo". Now, I'm not sure if she was just trying to be "one of the boys", or if she was repeating something one of her other family members had warned upon coming out of the toilet (not me, I assure you), but I could probably say without doubt that it's not something she'll be announcing to her brother's mates in, say, 12 years time.

In fact, if she faces the kind of mortification that comes from others knowing that she has befoulled the toilet, she'd be more likely to hold on when mates around to avoid that very knowledge. But then, why is it that we try and hide something that we all do (even the Queen, I remember being amazed to discover)? I'm speaking predominantly about the female population here, too, as many men I have noticed are still quite proud to announce the stinkiness of their deposit in the big white porcelain bank. Although, some make a vain attempt to hide the evidence of their latest visit to the loo by spraying some eye-watering combination of white lily and pot pourri; which, in my opinion seems to grab the stench, swirl it around with some floral scent and produce an even more unnatural and offensive odour.

Ok, enough about the poo, just think of all the ways we suppress our natural urges to avoid embarrassment and judgement of others. Children are well-known for pointing out obvious facts with sometimes excruciating honesty. The things we think but would not in a million years say out loud - especially observations of a person's appearance - are fair game for a child. When he was at that magically honest age of about 3, My 7 year old boy once loudly proclaimed to me at the beach "look at that, Mum, that man has boobs" - much to my, and the man in question's, intense horror. And really, the poor little soul was just sharing something he thought his mum might be interested in and didn't realise he was being offensive - the rather top-heavy bloke didn't see the cute or funny side unfortunately and demanded to know what he had said. What else could I say but "kids will be kids"? And who hasn't been embarrassed by their child in a supermarket aisle pointing out to one and all the advanced size of the bottom in front?

School kids are especially brutal when it comes to bringing other kids down - it's a self-preservation thing. If all the other kindy kids are busy chanting "you wet your paa..aants" to the poor soul who spilt water on his crotch at the bubbler, they are less likely to turn their attention to the fact that you didn't shake as well as you could've on your last toilet trip. And the moment some loud-mouthed kid caught you rolling a boogie and wiping it under the table was probably the last time you did it (in full view, anyway). These kind of ruthlessly embarrassing moments are the ones that put an end to our youthfully innocent shameless behaviour forever.

Which is a shame really. Us adults could learn a thing or two from kids about honesty. OK, so we can't all go around being brutally honest about people's appearance - that would likely make us susceptible to wrath and, perhaps, assault (or, even worse, a retorted reply broadcasting a few home truths of our own physical shortcomings). But surely we shimmy around the truth a little too much at times when candor would be much more helpful. Like when shopping with a pal and the outfit she's tried on makes her look like a sallow and lumpy sack of potatoes - are you going to let her go out like that? Or when hubby comes in for an early morning grope with breath that smells like horse manure dipped in sour milk - do you hold your breath and close your eyes and try not to imagine you're kissing a camel, or do you demand that he brushes his teeth before he has the reward of sucking in your own less than fresh vapour? I don't know about you, but I feel really cranky if I discover, too late, that I've been walking around all day with a baked bean stain on my cheek and no-one had the nerve to tell me.

So come on, lets take a leaf out of the kids' book and say it like it is - "you smell like faaa-art, you smell like faaa-art"