A DAD'S LIFE:'DIPLOMACY," SAYS the missus. "Write about how good you are at teaching your kids diplomacy." She drips sarcasm. "Ah, stick your diplomacy," my response is diplomatic.
“Exactly,” she says. “They’re starting to talk to me and each other like that because you think it’s okay to flip someone the bird as a form of greeting. That’s not normal and you’re not 14.”
“Look, they need to be able to express themselves in a relaxed manner without having to adhere to formal constrictions. I want them to feel free in speech and actions.”
“Now you’re pretending to be some sort of hippy when the truth is you’re a closet fascist who’s just too lazy to teach his kids any manners!”
Volume and pitch is rising so I decide to calm the troubled waters. “You deal with their behavioural problems, they seem fine to me. And in the meantime, don’t forget to stick it.”
I close the door before the mug she was holding connects with my head. Settling into the armchair in the living room with the previous Sunday’s newspapers, I wonder has she a point. Certainly, the volume has risen in the kitchen as the elder arrives in, shouting to find out what we’re shouting about.
And the missus, in her frustration, shouts back that she shouldn’t speak to her mother like that. The younger, not wishing to feel left out, roars that everyone should stop shouting.
I consider returning to the scene to smooth the troubled waters, but have learned over the years that this invariably leads to an escalation. Instead, I turn to the sports pages and request a cuppa if anyone’s sticking the kettle on. I’m a long time waiting.
When I was growing up, we were a bit of a fight or flight family. We would pootle along, but when it got tense we weren’t the best at smoothing things over. We liked to go nuclear fast. Fortunately, none of us had a finger on a button of any consequence or we’d all be battling cockroaches for supper right now.
We also calmed down pretty quickly. So, if my sister and I were one minute trying to hang each other off the banisters, we were usually friends again by morning. And this continued through our teens, the physical battles only coming to a close when we were legally allowed vote. Of course, being a boy, I could never expect to win a physical battle because that would have been unfair, so I developed a flair for taunting and running. And ducking flying missiles, a skill which has proven useful in married life.
Moving out into the world, I discovered that this sort of approach to conflict resolution rarely works. You can’t sit in a meeting discussing production schedules and expect your boss to be forgiving when you attempt to explain away another deadline missed by calling him a tool and legging it from the room. No, instead I learned the process of negotiating through the quagmire of different opinions and expectations with respect for everybody involved in the process.
After a few years in the workplace, I came to the realisation that all meetings should be under the firm, guiding hand of a benign dictator. The more voices there are in a room, for anything to actually get done, the fewer should be heard. Someone has to stand up and take control and shut up the clowns who absorb all the oxygen while contributing nothing.
It’s from this attitude that my wife has formed her impression of me as a fascist. The only place that I see myself as that dictator is in my own family. The problem is the rest of my family laugh at that assumption. They think they each have a voice of equal consequence despite my constant assurances that they do not, that mine is the only one worth hearing.
So, I make my pronouncements, place my hand on the kitchen (in place of boardroom) table, eyeball my family, and leave the room safe in the knowledge that they respect whatever decision I’ve made due to the wealth of experience I bring to the room.
Only when I leave the room do decisions get made. The missus listens to whatever nonsense the kids chirrup and factors it in. The kids see me stamp my foot and be ignored. Accepting that and moving on seems an example of diplomacy in action. They should take note.