Conflict at home can be entertaining. I’m not being facetious. After getting home and giving the rounds of hugs to the hubby and little girl, I noticed a note sitting on the chair that Lexi had written. You can see that note here:

“You hurt my filings and you neted said sorry Tripp Lexi” Then a side note that reads, “You got frushradi I think you did not sleep wel ether.”

Let me interpret this note written by our kindergartener:

“You hurt my feelings and you need to say sorry, Tripp. Lexi” Then a side note that reads, “You got frustrated I think. You did not sleep well either.”

Hahaha…it cracked me up. I just returned from a work trip where I facilitated a class on how to effectively have crucial conversations so that all parties involved walk away saying what they need to say without watering down the message and saving the relationship. My colleagues and I discussed how the crux of most, if not all, relationship issues involve miscommunication-how we deliver the message, the content of our message, the intent behind our message, etc…

So it was funny and ironic that my daughter wrote this note to my husband. I’ve heard that it’s never a good thing when you have to call your children by their first, middle and last name. Well, it’s never a good thing when your daughter addresses you by your first name either!

So what precipitated the note? What could my husband have said that would have hurt my daughter’s feelings to the degree that she’s writing him a note to communicate her feelings? Ginger ale. He refused her ginger ale. But according to Lexi, it wasn’t what he said but how he said it. “Mommy, he said it in a mean voice and it hurt my feelings.”

We know that to be so true. It’s not what people say most often, but how they say it. It’s the difference between a casual conversation and a crucial conversation. During the workshop this week, I suggested that the single most important thing we could do to save the conversation and the relationship is apologize. Did you know that adults have a hard time apologizing? It’s the pride in us that doesn’t want to admit that we’re wrong…even when we know we are. If we apologize, we want the other person to apologize, too, so we’re less culpable. That’s true for me at least.

But my husband is a bigger person than I am. No, he really is. He’s a good foot taller than me. No, he’s bigger than me in terms of not being as proud as me, and he apologized to Lexi pretty immediately. Because it was the right thing to do. The conflict was over.

Participants in the workshop asked whether it’s as easy as apologizing. My answer was, “Not always, but an apology sure does go a long way. And it’s a start towards humility.

Do you have a hard time apologizing when you know you’re wrong?