Surrendering the Fruit

Let Go of Those Verbal Jabs

Apr 13, 2024

My children are grown, but I remember when I went to McDonald’s with my oldest son. Let me pause and explain the Arduini kid order. We have four kids, but I only birthed two. The older two are from my husband’s first marriage and I don’t like referring to them as step-kids. Because hubby and I have a decade age-gap, people look at me weird when I say our oldest kid is forty, when I am fifty-four. So here’s the TLDR: The oldest two live in Wisconsin and I did not give birth to them. The youngest two live in Ohio, and I did give birth to them. I love them all.

Back to McDonald’s. The parenthood books prepared me for sleep schedules, weaning the pacifier, and toddler tantrums. Those manuals never mentioned those times you’d hear crying from the top of the indoor McD’s play yard and need to climb yourself to the top to find your kid.

But that’s our story, and my three-year old was inconsolable. He was around a group of boys and as soon as they saw me scaling the slide to join them, all but one vanished. He stood within earshot and served as the interpreter/informant.

I asked Brian why was he crying and he couldn’t tell me. I brushed at his cheeks and assured him it was okay. He shook his head. The pint-size informant moved closer and whispered with his finger pointed toward the boys who had taken off, “That one called him ‘Lemon-drop head.’”

Let me explain.

I love a clearance rack like anyone else. Back in the day Old Navy had toddler coats and winter gear so cheap. I grabbed not only a winter jacket, but the cutest yellow hat to match that navy blue coat.

Forgive me, Ohio State, but the colors I describe are Michigan State. Yellow hat, blue coat.

And a kid had the nerve to refer to my son as “lemon drop head.”

It seems silly, but after I talked Brian down the emotional roller coaster and the slide, that insult stuck with him. It festered. Two weeks later I was on my way to his room when I heard him.

“Oh yeah? Yeah? Well you’re a coconut head!”

The fruit were really taking a beating in this pre-k trash talk, but this was what my son came up with, two weeks later, as a response to his play yard bully.

Lemon drop head and Coconut head. True story.

It’s a cute story, but there’s some stuff to unpack here. I bet you remember at least one insult hurled your way from childhood. I sure do.

How about those chats where you find yourself thrown under the bus at a family reunion?

Maybe you were the laughingstock at work.'

Chances are, you’re rehearsing a comeback comment in your head that’s owned you for hours. Days. Weeks. Months? Maybe even years?

Those verbal jabs seem to get first seating in our brains, and boy do they overstay. I write fiction and those mugs are true about watch out what you say around an author because they will put you in their book. Me? I’ll create a bully/villain based on my memories.

I write about surrender because I believe it’s key to living free. For me, I am visual and I literally take those people, words, and my reactions and picture myself carrying them with purpose. Not to pack in a suitcase and walk around with for years, but to drop off at my favorite visual destination: The Cross.

Not just any ole’ cross, but the place where my faith starts, grows, and lives.

I have to let go of those words that annoy/haunt/hurt or whatever the case may be. Do I have it perfected? Of course not, that’s why I have bullies in my book who I know exactly where the research came from.

But walking around like Brian did practicing a comeback?

I’ve lived long enough to know it’s not just pre-schoolers that do it.

Adults do too.

Even lose sleep over it.

I know relationships in a dire place where one or both spend more time nursing that wound and how they want to get even instead of communicating the hurt and working on a solution that leads to their healing.

My encouragement is to surrender the insults. If you received it, let it go. Be like Elsa in Frozen. Remember what she sang? The cold never bothered her. I had a mentor that saw my sensitive self (oh, so that’s where Brian got it) and told me I needed to have the heart of a dove and the skin of a rhino. That’s great advice.

It takes practice. But as soon as the thought enters your mind, take action. If you’re visual like me, picture yourself taking the trash out. Not the person, the words. Don’t let them fester. The Bible has a verse that says take those thoughts captive. Another word picture for me. I lasso those insults up and ride over to Jesus and hand them to him. It’s not my battle, not my problem.

If you have a childhood memory that popped up as you read Brian’s play story, it’s time to surrender the words and the pain. Was that kid right to call Brian “Lemon Drop Head”? No, not any more than someone slurred that you’re a waste of space or you carry the echo from long ago that you won’t ever amount to anything.

Letting it go doesn’t mean they were right. It means you get to live free.

That’s worth all the fries at McDonalds plus the best fruit on trees!

Before I sign off, I promised every post will mention something chocolate. Each Friday our family instead of keeping ice cream in the house go to Dairy Queen. My go-to is a Peanut Buster parfait, chocolate ice cream. Yes, chocolate. Try it. It’s so good I convinced my friend’s son to make the switch. Brian, on the other hand, prefers the original. Oh well, I still say chocolate is better. What do you think?

I’d love to hear from you! Feel free to leave a comment and/or follow me across social media and book sites. I love to engage with readers. Nicely, of course!

Surrender Issues and Chocolate

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