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Children just sort of know real Beanies from the rest
By Deborah Taylor-Hollis
Every now and then someone will try to give my child or one of his fellow kindergartners a gift, and the conversation goes like this:
"I know how much they are all into that Beanie thing, and I was going to get one, but they are so expensive! I did find this adorable beanbag bear, though, and it's just like the others, so I'm sure they'll love it--they'll never know the difference!"
I shake my head and accept their attempt to pull the wool over the kids' eyes. These kind but misinformed people have confused size and intelligence, incorrectly assuming that small people are also dumb. I guess they make the opposite assumption also, and believe all big people are smart. I never point out that some of the biggest losers and college drop-outs are just that: big. Most of my college wrestling team couldn't conjugate anything more vital than their own scorecards. And, conversely, some of the most intelligent people in society are rather petite. Stephen Hawking isn't exactly bigger than a bread box, and he seems to have overtaken another thinly diminutive brainiac, the late Carl Sagan, for title of intergalactic genius at large. But back to the kids ...
There is no earthly correlation between age and smarts. And most children who can speak will inform you of this the first time McDonald's comes within their range of view and they scream, shout, bang the back of your car seat and generally froth at the mouth to get there. Even though they have never been there before, they know that the golden arches holds sway over world peace, heavenly guidance and their very being. They also know when you are lying.
There isn't a 4-year-old on the planet who will idly accept the phrase "Mommy would love to, but we just can't right now" without pitching one of the most exquisitely choreographed fits since Agnes DeMille put on Oklahoma! She was also a fit-pitcher from way back, having learned the art of instinctively attacking the emotional jugular from her equally famous uncle Cecil B. during the filming of Cleopatra (the first time).
Four-year-olds--and everyone beyond that age--can grasp a great many things intuitively, almost by osmosis. Boys, without any training, exposure or other contact with males of any kind, will automatically begin making shooting noises at age 10 months and by 2 years old will make toy guns out of Lincoln logs, Legos or even the "V" shape of their index fingers and thumbs. They will do this naturally. They are not dumb. They know just moments after they are born what weapons are for and how to make that "rat-tat-tat-tat-tat" sound that will drive their pacifist mothers right over the brink and into the arms of Amnesty International.
Girls, within the first five years of their lives, know that pink does not go with red under any circumstances, and any self effacing 6-year-olds girl child can tell you just where hemlines are this year without checking into Elle magazine. It is wired into their brains. They are very smart.
You cannot explain to children how the deficit works because it doesn't really--it is a fiction created by adults to appease other adults, so forget it. You can also never explain where dead people go--kids will always have another question, more ponderous than the last, more taxing in its complexity, and it will be much better than any explanation Thomas Aquinas ever dished out. I'll bet that Martin Luther was only a child when he first questioned the church before going on to found Protestantism.
Children do, however, instantly understand space travel, thrust, speed, gravity, rotation and free fall, absorbing these things the way we breath air. Show a kid a photo of John Glenn in that space suit, and they just know that the man went up in space--even kids from nomadic tribes who live in the desert and drink yak blood like grape juice.
Children also know things like when you have bought ice cream and have hidden it in the back of the freezer--they don't need to see it or smell it or hear it to know it is there, a frozen siren song to their psyches. Don't try to deny the ice cream--they will stand guard on the fridge until you have brought it out (with that stupid surprised look on your face usually reserved for Christmas presents of dubious worth and no return value) and then give you a stare several degrees colder than the fudge ripple in your hands.
Children instinctually know these things--it is only adults who must learn to tell the liars from the faithful, the kind from the demons, the investment counselors from the Florida-based con artists. Go ahead--just try to pass off a phony Beanie. Just try.
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Willow Glen, California Since 1992
