Feeling a bit too good about yourself? There's a fix for that

Parents, I take my hat off to you.

Not for the sleepless nights or the endless cleaning.

Not for nurturing tiny humans into the people who will, in a decade or so, be able to drive, vote and turn up in the workplace with no idea what dial-up internet sounded like.

That’s all great and important and I’m sure not easy.

But the reason I take my hat off to you is for enduring the pure and soul-crushing observations small children like to make about the world around them, and the people in it, every single day.

The fact that any of you have the self-confidence to leave the house is a testament to your courage in the face of brutal reality and relentless honesty.

I say this after a week spent with our (beloved) niece and nephew left me and my husband a quivering mass of insecurities.

Niece and nephew are three and two.

Conversation is a skill they’re learning and they both take it very seriously.

Niece has learnt that if someone asks you a question about yourself it’s polite to ask them a question about themself.

A recent enquiry about her pretty new dress was met with a demure “thankyou” before her devastating return volley.

“Aunty Zoe, why does your one front tooth stick out like that?”

A masterstroke, a precision hit; I’d spent the past month pondering whether I could justify the expense of adult braces.

My husband and friends kindly told me there was no need – they hadn’t even noticed my crooked tooth.

Thanks to my darling niece, I know they’re all shameless liars. And I should probably talk to my dentist.

The hits, once they started coming, did not stop.

“Uncle Ben,” a small voice asked, “do you have a baby in your belly?”

Assured that he did not, a small finger reached out to poke said belly before a puzzled question.

“Then what’s in there?”

Oooof. Too many Oreos, if we’re being brutally honest.

Other enquiries included what happened to Uncle Ben’s hair, why was his face fuzzy like a butt, and why does Aunty Zoe have stinky breath in the morning?

All of this was delivered without malice, calmly, politely, curiously.

It’s much the same way I imagine an all-powerful rogue AI would ask questions like, “Why do human beings destroy the planet and each other?” before zapping us all out of existence.

The impartiality makes it sting all the more.

Fortunately, after two days of politely answering questions about why Uncle Ben and Aunty Zoe do not look like runway models (follow-up questions included, “Why are you both the same size? Why can’t you reach the top shelf?”) we made our escape, self-esteem in tatters.

We’ve returned home to lick our wounds and complain to our friends who reassure us that OF COURSE we aren’t that short/bald/stinky.

It’s all lies, but they’re far easier to believe without tiny arbiters of truth in the house to point out that these emperors have no clothes.

It’s left me with an enormous admiration for any parent who leaves the house, ever, at all.

For the record – you’re all beautiful, you have just the right amount of hair, and whether or not your belly contains a baby, it’s just right the way it is.

Probably brush your teeth before you head out though. Just in case.