There is a sassy video of a father who is wearing shorts that are as brief as his daughter's. He walks into her bedroom with a lot of exposed leg. She is flustered.

 

"Dad! You can't wear those!!" she wails.

 

"They are no higher than yours. Put yours on and let's compare."

 

He tells of his intention to wear them the next time he picks her up after school. She is mortified. 

 

After an exasperated few minutes, she puts hers on. They are, it turns out, as revealing as her dad's.

 

I have no idea what happened in the next few days, whether she decided to lean into modesty, or became a recluse. 

 

I laughed, which was the intent. But it also resonated. There are times when the only way I seem capable of self observation is when I first notice it in someone else. One time a friend was complaining about her husband. making him sound like a loser. Her voice trailed off as I wondered. Do I do that? At the expense of my partner's dignity? 

 

Another time I heard a couple bickering about the washcloth in the sink. Who wrings it out. Who forgets. It was, frankly, embarrassing. Mostly because it was all too easy to picture myself in the nit picking role. 

 

Anyone who has parented a three year old has probably heard themselves echoed in their child's comments. The intonation, the hand on the hip as their preschooler reprimands the dog. The scolding in the grocery aisle. 

 

It's a good thing really. The alternative is to blunder through life without a clue about our own behavior. Fortunately video cameras were more scarce when my first batch of kids were small. Hence the absence of incriminating footage.