Family Man® - Let's Hug It Out

By Gregory Keer

The general love standard in our home has our boys hugging and kissing each other when they say goodbye in the mornings, reunite in the evenings, or whenever the spirit moves them.

When I was 15, one perfectly fine day was ruined by a hug. As I was running out the door to meet my morning carpool, my mom stopped me with, "Did you forget to hug your mother?"

I relented, fighting all the uptightness my adolescent attitude exuded, and she embraced me with the conviction a person usually reserves for airport departures. Having just recently applied her perfume, Mom not only planted a kiss on my cheek, but also transferred four ounces of Ralph Lauren fragrance to me.

From the carpool until I reached my first class, I suffered intense teenage anxiety over the prospect that someone would think I intentionally spritzed myself to smell like a fresh bouquet of roses. Considering that I attended an all-boys' school, the stakes were pretty high. I tried relentlessly to erase the aroma, wiping my face with my hands, even resorting to spitting on my palm to neutralize the aroma.

Everything went fine until we had to write an in-class essay. In the quiet, Steve Weisburd picked up his head and sniffed the air.

"Is that Lauren perfume I'm smelling?"

I sank into my seat, hoping to melt into the plastic of the chair.

I survived that day without detection, though I still can't forgive my mom for turning me into a department-store perfume counter. What I can't fault her for was the hug. Because of the hugs of my mom and other relatives, I was blessed with an extra measure of love and security.

Today, I don't transfer cologne to my sons, but I do hug them a lot. From the time of their births, I have held them, kissed them and pinched their chubby legs. As they've grown, I've cherished the times they've come up to hold my hand while walking, climbed onto my lap when tired, or run to me for a bear hug upon my return home at the end of a long day. My wife and I have also let the boys crawl into our bed for morning cuddles (it's gotten more crowded with five of us and they fight to be next to at least one of us).