Using the 'fluffernutter trick' ... and now I'm listening

When my son was 4 he became quite the conversationalist; unfortunately, his 4-year-old topics of interest varied greatly from mine; he preferred to chat about cars, heavy machinery and Busytown, while I … didn't. Sometimes while conversing, he'd stop me in the middle of my response and demand that I respond differently. He'd even shout and kick the floor in frustration. I couldn't understand his irritation and kept insisting that my response was perfectly valid. Honestly, I thought, who'll talk to him if he tries to control both sides of the discussion?Then one day as we were driving, he was sharing his many thoughts about a rock pile that adorned the dam near where we lived in Massachusetts. When he made a slightly convoluted statement I didn't understand, I said what I usually said, which was, "Oh, right," while distractedly trying to find a better song on the radio. And then he became belligerent and kicked the back of my seat. "Don't say, 'Oh, right!'" he shouted. "OK," I said this time, instead of arguing. "What would you like me to say?"His suggestion involved bathroom humor, so I'll save you from that bit of conversation, but we finally agreed that I could say, "Fluffernutter!"(The fluffernutter is a delicious peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich, in case you didn't know. It was a recent culinary discovery of my son's at the time. Also, it's a fun word.)But while we were brainstorming all the silly words, I remembered something that happened years before. My friend and I were walking home from eighth grade, and as she dissected gossip about her favorite band, Duran Duran, I only half listened because I was really more of a Michael Jackson fan. Also, I really wanted to chat about my latest crush and any possible clues that he might like me, but that conversation had worn thin with her. So there we were, plodding past Foster's Freeze, when she interrupted her monologue and huffed, "I can tell when you're not listening because you always say, 'Oh, uh-huh, right.'" And she wasn't wrong. Apparently, my conversational bag of tricks hadn't changed much between 1985 and 2011. I realized that with all of his shouting and flailing limbs, my son was trying to say the same thing my friend had been trying to say more than 30 years ago: "Please listen to me." Despite his ineloquence, not only did my son finally make his point, he gave me a tool, a silly word, to snap me out of my non-listening reverie — whether or not I want to be snapped — so I could pay attention. Once I was really pushed to listen, I learned to steer the conversation in a direction that interested both of us. I might say, "Let's talk monster trucks for two more minutes, and then I'd like to discuss the effects of social media on the publishing industry."Well, I might say that, but the conversation didn't often go my way. In fact, my son is 12 now, and I still have trouble steering us toward topics that interest both of us, but at least I'm able to remind him that it's important to check in and see if the person he's talking to is still interested in the subject.This is a trick that some adults could put to good use as well — including myself. I haven't employed the "Fluffernutter" conversation tool in years, but sometimes when I'm stuck too deep in my head, worrying about my career prospects or cringing at a decades-old conversation I wish had gone differently, when I feel my blood pressure rise and my stomach tie in knots over my anemic retirement plan, I realize that all I have to do to feel better is take a deep breath and be in the moment where I am.And then I think it: "Fluffernutter." Tricia Caspers is a writer and writing instructor. Follow her on Facebook at @PatriciaCaspersPoet.