The Art of Flattery

Imitation is the highest form of flattery.

This is such a widely familiar axiom that I can’t find one person who can tell me where it originated. I checked. I asked everyone at the Tim Horton’s the other day. Still, it rings true, and our own children are often the best purveyors of such high praise.

It happens all the time around here. Just the other day I called my 3 year old daughter for lunch. She flattered me greatly (but not until the third time I called her) when she stomped into the kitchen, frowning, and said: “ok, ok, ok, ok, ok, I’m coming, just give me two seconds, oh-KAY?” It was heart warming. She later paid tribute to both her mother and I. She took her toy broom and swept the kitchen, just like she’s seen us both do every Tuesday or so. Then she put the broom back in the closet and flattered Mommy by telling me that “some people put things away when they finish”.

Now, Evelyn is only 10 months old. Her imitations are more subtle, but equally as flattering. I just wish she’d stop flattering her Papa by blowing raspberries while I’m feeding her apple sauce. Thankfully, her sister wasn’t in the room to “flatter” me by repeating what I said. It was neither flattering to the apple sauce, nor her grandfather.

Instead, she popped up a few minutes later, and asked for a bite of the cookie I was eating. I grumbled something about it being “just a Daddy snack”. She persisted with a sweeping flattery of her parents, grandparents and Aunties by staring me down and stating “well, you know it’s good to share. You could share it with me, couldn’t you Daddy?”

I poured the milk, while she shared the rest of my cookie.