Sarcasm and Kids

One of my earliest and most distinct memories is from kindergarten. It was parent teacher conferences, the first one I had ever had, and my mom brought me with her to meet with my teacher. As they were showing me where I could play with some toys while they talked about me, my teacher, Ms. Harris, looked at me and then at my mom and said, “Well, Mollie is just the most difficult child. She is such a problem in our class room.” Being as young as I was, and so concerned with pleasing authority figures and doing what was right, I sat there for the next 20 minutes or so truly believing that I was a problem child. I had a huge lump in my stomach, and I was trying to figure out what I had done so wrong. When I left with my mom, I asked her what I had done wrong, and she explained to me that my teacher was just being sarcastic, saying the opposite of what she meant. I remember thinking that day that sarcasm was the most awful form of communication, and I promised myself I would never use it.
Well, fast forward 21 years - and sarcasm is one of my more common forms of communication. I was reminded the other night of how dangerous it can be with kids...
A few nights ago Harrison asked me to read him his ABC Dinosaur book. This is a board book containing the names and descriptions of 26 dinosaurs, beginning with every letter of the alphabet. The names are impossible to pronounce, and to me the species are pretty redundant. A plant eater with small brain here, a meat eater with a small brain there.... You get the picture. Well, as he asked me to read it to him for a bed-time story, I sarcastically commented “Oh, my favorite!” From that moment on, every time I ask Harrison if he wants me to read him a book, he says, “Yes, and let’s read your favorite, my Dinosaur ABC book.” I hope I have learned my lesson this time....
Mollie