Nasty Nice

I think I discovered today something that is one of my biggest hot buttons: nasty-nice people. Perhaps you have had a nasty-nice encounter? That's where the person you are dealing with makes a face that is meant to look like a smile, and says words that are meant to be polite, but everything else in their manner suggests that they really hate your guts?

My children were babysat in a mob today, where their care provider changed midway through. I picked them up from Nasty-Nice. Their comment? "Boy, mom, the FIRST babysitter was really nice!" The woman's words could only have been described as polite, but everything about her said, "You aren't okay with me." The kids recognized it--they just felt it, though they commented that the second lady said things with polite words.

You know, I think my impression of her first went awry when I called my children out and she came and spoke to them, not me, to tell them to come back in so I could fill out a form that I'd forgotten when I arrived. That annoys me. A lot. Why does that annoy me so much? It strikes me as insincere and dishonest and it makes me want to hurt somebody, to rip the mask off. I'm touchy about being accused of...well, anything, actually, but especially of poor parenting. And anyone who pastes on a mask to pretend to be loving my kids when they are really bugged by them, provokes me. I'd rather someone just say what's on their mind, in love. If you really reject me and my kids, then you can go jump in a lake. But don't pretend that you aren't rejecting them. I hate that. It doesn't equal love, its a farcical imitation--worse than hate, because genuine hate is at least genuine.

We went to the dentist a few months ago. My kids told him that they brushed their teeth like once a week. (I think that was an underestimation, we are a humble lot.) In my defense, my children are told twice a day to brush their teeth. I'm often bad on following up, but I have taken a stab at it! The child that had perfect dental health was stonily lectured by the dentist that she really must brush more or her teeth would turn green, hurt, fall out, and that it was up to her to be responsible for her health, etc. The child that had a cavity, bore it bravely. The dentist just told us she'd have to come back in to have it fixed. I wanted her to be prepared for the procedure and be reassured about what was going to happen to her so I asked the man to explain it to her. He made it sound as clinical and painful as possible, adding that if she didn't brush more she could expect more of the same. I sent the kids out, and had a talk with the dentist.

I told him that I didn't have to bring my kids to the dentist and we could have lied on his form and given the answers that he wanted. We could have avoided the embarassment of taking care of our teeth. I tearfully told him that while I'm no Mary Poppins, I do have my strengths and forced-teeth brushing isn't one of them, but I'm trying, and I'd thank him not to judge my family. I don't know what all I said or why I felt I needed to.

I had a similar conversation with a carpet cleaning guy that commented on how gross my rugs were, hoping to sell me more carpet cleaning services. Why do I have to do this? Why can't I just crawl under a rock and be embarassed quietly? Why do I have to hold my head up and refuse to hide my ugliness? I seem to need to declare, "This is my life, yes, I suck at it, but it's my life, so shut up!"

So I guess I'm especially vulnerable to people who can put on a face. They love law, and can carry it off--their carpets smell rosy, they brush their teeth and floss, and have clean, quiet children who can find both their (clean) shoes, and never say awkward things that pierce the veil of intimacy. I see that all that is good. It doesn't make me able to do it, though. It's my pride. And shame. And some flavor of faithlessness, I'm sure. I can't seem to be anything but a transparent mess, but heaven help you if treat me like one!

So that's the raw emotional content. There is theology behind this, too, though. Nasty-nice people think they are obeying God because they are mouthing what they think is the right words and doing what they think is right. But they are dangerous pits, not to be trusted. They have their faith in doing the right thing, and they pose their bodies in the shape of righteousness. They are physically faithful to their spouse, they are in church every single week no matter what, they don't smoke, they give to missionaries, they weed out questionable videos from their collections. They emphasize to their children that they must learn God's ways, and never lie, or be rude. God expects obedience and rewards it, disobedience causes suffering.

But they are like thin ice. They believe that they have obeyed because they have made the shape. But inside, lives something that says, "You, spouse, aren't living up to the standard. You, children, aren't living up to the standard. Poor me, I go to all the trouble to make my face a smile shape, but you just scowl at me for no reason. Poor me, I work and work at church and all those other loafers are slack in their duty!" They say "Welcome to my home!" but what they really mean is, "Don't you dare break anything! Must you be so loud?" Yes, we are loud, and we might break something. Why can't you just say, "AHHHHHH! don't break that! You're driving me nuts, why don't you go outside?!" Instead, Nasty-Nice keeps those feelings, makes a smile. Until the day when the internal dialogue reaches a scream and they lose it in violence. And it becomes clear that sure enough, that wasn't the fruit of the spirit, but just some wax imitation.

So, I don't trust them. And I won't play the game. And I'll never survive in church...