As a mother, there are a few important concerns you must ask as you watch your little girl grow up. Questions like, “Will my daughter have good self-esteem?” “When will she have her first kiss?” and most importantly, “Is my daughter…simple?” If your answer to the last question is a solid “Yes,” it is your duty as a parent to tell your daughter the truth before she starts thinking too much about too many things. Here are a few easy tips to lessen the blow:
If She Can Read: Tell her in a fortune cookie.
Everyone’s favorite part of eating take-out is opening that little soothsaying, tooth-decaying confection.. When your daughter reads, “You are dumber than you think,” she’ll assume it’s her destiny and not her mother’s sly method of insinuation. Lucky numbers: 1, 2, 3. That’s as far as she’ll ever count.
If She Can’t Read: Tell her dressed as Santa.
If your daughter is four years old and still can’t read, it’s time to throw in the towel. You’ve been trying to teach her for four years, after all. How can you tell your daughter she’s illiterate without destroying your relationship? She needs to hear it from a man in her life: Santa. When Danielle hears, “You can’t read, and you’ll never learn,” while on the lap of Father Christmas himself, she’ll deeply appreciate his honesty. Slap on your white beards, Mommies, and let Santa take the hit!
Tell her in a lullaby.
Singing your little one to sleep is a tender moment between mother and child. If you’re not sure how to break it to your daughter that she’s already a lost cause for the Ivy League, try utilizing her vulnerability by saying it in a lullaby. Try peppering in, “Hush little baby, don’t you cry/ Nothing you say is ever relevant to the conversation.” This will strengthen your bond. Plus, simple girls remember things more easily when told in a song. Even the simplest girls start to build a sense of self early in childhood, and it’s important you make her aware of her limitations.
If She Can’t Take Hints: Be Blunt.
Honesty is the best policy as you develop your relationship with your children, especially your simplest one. If she hasn’t gotten the idea yet, sit with your daughter, look at her dead in the eyes and say, “You’re not bright, sweetheart.” Keep it plain and simple. Get it?
Girls may be made of sugar, spice and everything nice, but it’s important to loudly acknowledge their cognitive setbacks before they have too many hopes or dreams. One of the greatest tests of motherhood is whether or not to abandon your simple child. My daughter is no exception. Just stick with it, and the other mothers will eventually admire your unwavering devotion to your simple child.
