Third Person Narrative--Momrepus asks "WHY?"

There’s someone standing behind you in line at the grocery store. He seems normal enough and starts talking to you. Fine. You’re pleasant and polite and then…he mentions “Joe”. Joe loves this. Joe does this for a living. Joe can’t stand it when people do that. You’re wondering if you know this Joe, or if this guy thinks you know Joe. This guy…what the hell was his name again?

Suddenly, you’re hit with it—that sick feeling in your stomach reserved for dark alleys and darker still parking lots. Your heart beats a little harder in your chest as your voice squeaks, “What’s your name again?”

He looks confused and upset. “Joe doesn’t like when people don’t listen to him,” he warns.

Alright...dramatic but I’ve always hated this. And, personally, the creep factor squashes anything Fear Factor can dream up. So why, WHY, do parents do this? Why do we talk about ourselves in the third person?

“Mommy will be right there, honey.” “Please don’t hit Mommy.” “Where is Mommy’s nose? Yes! That’s Mommy’s nose—you’re so smart!”

When did this happen?

A good friend of mine came to visit and, as she was leaving, she turned to me and said, “You know, my son did that, too.”

“Did what?”

“Referred to himself in the third person. It’s that damn Elmo. Once I stopped letting him watch Sesame Street, he stopped doing it.” Okay, it may not be that simple for all of us but, hey, if we never refer to ourselves as, well, ourselves, how will they learn? And while it may be easier for children to learn in the third person when they’re itty bitty newbies, two and three years old is old enough to learn proper grammar.

It took a week. “Oh, YOU want some more peaches? You say, ‘I would like some more peaches.’” (And, while you’re at it, get that “please” in there). It was a week of loud, drawn-out first and second person narrative but we survived, and our son is talking goodly. We’re so proud.