The Power of Embarrassment

By now you’ve probably seen photos of the middle-aged, slightly pudgy father from Utah waving to his teenaged son as he boards the bus for school.  You know the dad I mean:  he’s the one dressed as The Little Mermaid. 

Apparently, about a year ago, the teenager had asked his (then normally dressed) stay-at-home dad to please stop waving goodbye to him each morning as he caught the bus in front of their house.  It was embarrassing, the son said. 

The father decided to show his son what embarrassing really was.  Every day for the entire school year, the dad stood by the front steps, waving, dressed in a new costume.  Batman.  Wonder Woman.  A Jedi knight.  Michael Jackson.  A chicken.

The photos are pretty amusing—my personal favorite is Princess Leia—but more importantly, the situation itself seemed familiar to me.  Because years ago, I had a similar opportunity to embarrass one of my children.  I recall that day clearly because it helped me realize something profound—or at least profoundly useful:  The power of embarrassment is one of the most under-utilized weapons in a parent’s arsenal.

My own story didn’t involve a Wonder Woman costume, but it did involve an incident while waiting for the bus with my younger daughter.

For some reason—and I can no longer recall why, exactly—I was trying to explain to the 7-year-old what “disco” meant.  The explanation led me to mention John Travolta, and after that, I was pretty much compelled (right?) to lunge to one side with a finger pointed in the air like Travolta in “Saturday Night Fever.”  Really—wouldn’t you have done the same?

 My daughter looked panic-stricken.

“Mom!” she whispered, nervously checking down the street for the bus. “Could you stop doing that?”

I chuckled, stopped, and didn’t think too much about it.  That is, until the following day, when the child insisted on stepping into puddles while waiting for the bus.  After the third warning, I suddenly had an idea.  I started with a little swaying of the hips, then made some circling motions with my arms, all while quietly singing, “Stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive, ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive.”

“What are you doing?” she yelled.

“I’ll stop if you stop,” I said.  (By this point in my--clearly delusional--memory, I’m executing a pretty fine “hustle.”)

“I get the point!” she exclaimed. “Just stop doing that!”

I did.  But my perspective on parenting was never the same after that.

I began to test out this new parenting technique grounded in embarrassment.  Within a week, just a few preliminary arm motions of the Macarena would make my children quit pinching each other and race to set the table.  A little Spanish Flamenco and they turned off the TV when asked.  A bit of Funky Chicken and they cowered in their rooms and put away laundry.

I soon discovered that dancing wasn’t the only talent I could use to extort my children’s cooperation.  Singing worked, too.  If there was too much commotion in the car, I’d join with Britney Spears in a chorus of “Hit Me Baby One More Time,” and suddenly my children had pulled out their backpacks and were doing homework.

For parents new to the art of embarrassment, here are a few applications that never fail:

1.     Public displays of affection.  You can exact a lot of cooperation from your middle-school child by promising never to kiss her goodbye anywhere within a mile of her school.

2.     Mentioning your youth.  Any indication that you once went on dates or thought someone of the opposite sex was “hot” is enough to silence your children for days.  Old prom photos are especially effective here.

3.     Mentioning your current love life.  Enough said.

In what ways have you managed to embarrass your children?  Email me your Awkward Family Embarrassing Moments or post them on The Mother Load Facebook page . 

As for me: even though my daughters are grown now, I’m not averse to launching into a chorus of “Oops, I Did It Again” for old time’s sake.  Just if I need them to set the table.