In Which John and I Set Some Limits

John and I often find ourselves with one main topic of discussion over dinner every night. We don’t decide on them beforehand, but generally we end up focusing on a Main Theme that defines the entire meal. Themes in the past have included “Truth: What it Means to Be Honest, What it Means to Lie, and How to Tell the Difference”, “Desire: What Causes It? Do We Have Control? Why Do We Desire Those Things Which Cause Us Harm?” and “The Heart is Not a Pump: Rudolf Steiner’s Refutation of the Pressure Propulsion Premise of Heart Function”.

Last night John brought up the following topic: “Appropriate Limits to Fawning: When is Enough Enough?” John was curious, you see, as he has recently felt as if he’s been fawning over me too much. He confessed he often resolves on his long daily walks to cut it out, but then, as he put it, “It’s not MY fault you’re so extraordinary.”

Well! What a problem to HAVE!! We set about figuring out how to limit his spontaneous bursts of accolade-laden monologues, working to find the line where heart-warming appreciation turns into an awkward/uncomfortable recitation of virtues, leaving the one being praised feeling uncertain about motive and exhausted by living up to the standard the fawner sets by excessive extolling of excellence (“Don’t worry,” he reassured me, “I don’t think you’re perfect – I’m well aware of your faults.”).

After much back and forth, much discussion of what it means to fawn, what it means to be fawned over, past experiences on both our ends of each role, etc, we came up with a concrete and satisfying agreement on the future role of fawning in our work/personal relationship (which is entirely blurred at this point… we spend almost our entire day constantly in each others’ company, and if we weren’t so good at being friends this whole endeavor could have turned into a major disaster). The terms are as follows:

John will henceforth keep the fawning on the DL. We decided deserved appreciation and compliments were fine, but if a compliment starts to go on a little too long and it feels like the beginning of a fawning fit, I will signal him to stop with a brief cutting motion of a finger across the throat. However, if I am having a particularly bad day and am in desperate need of a copiously complimentary pep talk, he has agreed to be available to fawn on command, and when my ego is sufficiently swollen I can gently bring the talk to a close with a conductor's sweeping "fin". John, by the way, put in the caveat that I was allowed to fawn over HIM if I felt so inclined.

“Whew!” John exclaimed once we had gone over all the details. “I’m really glad we figured that out.”

He paused. A grin tugged at the side of his mouth.

“Hannah!” he said as he began to laugh. “You need to put this conversation on your BLOG!!!”