Corrections

Without even officially starting, I've screwed up with my new job. I was supposed to get a huge set of documentation. It's available only to in-network computers and is far too large to email. So someone suggested Adam burn and mail a CD. I said that was fine or it would wait until I arrived in several weeks.

Adam replied and chided me for giving up too easily. He asked if I had an ftp site - I didn't, but do now - and reminded me that we live in 2008! Embrace the technology! I initially felt awful - profoundly disappointed in myself that I'd failed already - but I decided I was going to screw up a lot in the next few months. It's a pretty drastic change from what I've done until now. I'm bound to stumble.

So I replied that I had set up an ftp site and was pleased to know that he wasn't the type to ask me to purchase a horse and ride north for several days in order to copy the documents by hand. My strategy, therefore, is as follows: I got hired because I'm lovely to work with - I shall remain charming and witty even when I look dumb. If I pretend I'm not horrified by the mistake, then people won't hesitate to correct me (and therefore teach me) in the future. I won't make the same mistake twice (well, no more than twice, maybe) and I'll fix it as quickly as possible.

Anna and I were talking last week about how we hated being corrected. I postulated that it was the condescending manner in which criticism is handed down that often grates on people. So how is it done properly?

"This one taked a nap," Little One told me as we played Strawberry Shortcake.

"You took a nap?" my doll asked hers and she nodded.

"I took a nap too!" She hopped another doll over and said it correctly this time. I smiled at her. She knows the right way to speak, but gentle reminders seem best when words go wrong.

Likewise, when one doll stole another's spot for napping, they appeared to be growing fairly violent in their discussion. My doll hopped over and said we were playing on a bed - there were many places to nap. And hitting wasn't allowed in strawberry world. Only baking. And napping. And other things I like. It seemed to work and I was too tired to engage in a lengthy interrogation when my first inquiry over doll fights was met with a shrug.

That's not to say said method always works though.

"Have you been crying?" I asked Brother's Wife when she walked in. She nodded and proceeded to tell me about a talk show while I mostly ignored her and played Peek-a-boo with Smallest One. She thinks it's hilarious and I always giggle too.

"And it decapitated her head off," Brother's Wife concluded. I glanced away after clapping and saying 'Peek a boo!' with great feeling and blinked at her for a second.

"That's very sad," I said, "that someone was decapitated."

"Decapitated her head off," Brother's Wife repeated, shaking her head with apparent misery. I opened my mouth to say that decapitated was a head-specific sort of thing. But I decided that I didn't really want to embarrass her (but apparently I do want to point it out on my blog) because it's sweet that she was upset for these people on TV and how often is she really going to use decapitated in conversation? At least I tried.

As for whether my method is sound or not in general? Who knows. I'm obviously still getting nudged away from wrong answers too. (I did make it home safely. I'm tired and achy, but these drives home will soon be much shorter!)