Brussels Sprouts, Drama, and a Lesson in Assumptions

Recently, I’ve had the pleasure of connecting with an individual who, upon meeting, threw some incredibly deep, reflective questions my way—questions that are now stuck in my brain for the next few days. And no, before you ask, it’s not a therapist. 😜 Somehow, this conversation kicked off a personal deep dive into evaluating my core values, who I really am as a person, and if someone were to describe me, what would they say? As I’ve pondered these questions (and yes, for the third time, I’ve listened to The Mountain Is You—because sometimes a girl just needs a good pep talk to remind her of what she’s capable of), I’ve started to notice lessons in the most unexpected daily situations. The kind of lessons I might have missed if I hadn’t taken an extra 30 seconds to pause, reflect, and learn from them.

You might be wondering why I am sharing this, but as you will see below this piece of advice came in very handy just yesterday! —a miss on my part, a moment of reflection, and a valuable lesson in how I could have approached things differently.

Just yesterday, I had quite the episode with Olivia, my middle child, who’s basically the poster child for 'I might need to go to the hospital' at the slightest hint of an issue. It’s become the norm for us, and over time, we’ve come to expect the dramatic health crises that never seem to fully materialize. So when it comes to her, you learn to roll with it.

I had just gotten home from work, in that sweet spot of the evening when you're trying to figure out dinner and get your bearings, when Olivia comes charging into the kitchen. She’s screaming, crying, scratching all over, and barely able to catch her breath to explain what’s happening. All she keeps asking for is allergy medicine. Naturally, I’m thinking, “Here we go again,” but I try to be the calm, rational parent.

Eventually, through her tear-filled explanation, I gather that she touched a plant outside that she’s sure is causing an allergic reaction. I roll my eyes, mentally preparing for yet another “dramatic” episode, but my concern as a parent kicks in. So, I go outside to investigate. There it is, the offending plant—picture taken, Google Lens fired up, and the first hit says, “Brussels sprout.”

Now, here’s where I made my big mistake. Given Olivia’s history of exaggerated reactions, I didn’t bother digging deeper. I mean, Brussels sprouts? Really? That’s a vegetable, not some villainous toxin. So, I confidently told Olivia she was being extremely dramatic, had her wash her hands, change her clothes, calm down, and took the necessary “precaution” of giving her some allergy medicine to soothe her—just in case. I figured it was all a little over the top, but hey, let’s give her something to feel better about.

But here’s the kicker: It wasn’t a Brussels sprout. It was a plant notorious for causing severe itching and burning reactions if its oils touch the skin. Google Lens, in all its glory, had led me astray, and I took the easy way out. I assumed that because Olivia always tends to exaggerate, this must just be another one of those instances. If I’d only taken a moment to look closer at the plant, I would’ve realized that I was mistaken.

Now, of course, she’s totally fine. No permanent damage, and the treatment would have still been exactly the same. But this whole thing is a perfect example of why you should never assume, especially when you don't have all the facts. It’s easy to make quick judgments based on past behavior (especially with kids), but sometimes, those judgments can backfire.

Here’s the funny part—if I had taken that extra step to check the details, my reaction would have been different. Instead, I took the easy “Brussels sprout” answer and went with it, thinking, “How ridiculous can this be?” Spoiler: very ridiculous. It turns out, not all plants are Brussels sprouts, and not all crises are exaggerated.

In reflecting on this, I realize how often I can be guilty of jumping to conclusions, whether it's in parenting or in life in general. It’s so easy to base our reactions on past experiences or expectations, but doing so can limit our perspective and lead us down the wrong path. In this case, I assumed Olivia's dramatic behavior meant the situation was trivial, when in fact, there was more to the story. How often do we do that—make assumptions based on patterns, or even biases, and forget to pause for a moment to look closer?

This experience also reminded me of how powerful it can be to slow down, take a breath, and really assess the situation at hand. It’s a lesson in patience, and it’s something I’m trying to carry with me—not just in my parenting, but in my leadership and other areas of my life. Rushing to judgment can lead to misunderstandings, missed opportunities, and unnecessary stress.

I also realized how much more effective I can be when I approach challenges with curiosity rather than certainty. If I’d taken an extra moment to dig a little deeper, I would have seen that the plant wasn’t what I initially assumed, and my response would have been different. I can’t help but think how this translates to leadership, too—when we don’t rush to judgment, we give ourselves and others space to fully understand a situation before reacting.

It was a small parenting fail on my part, but it was a good reminder: sometimes it’s better to slow down and dig a little deeper before reacting. And next time, when I think “Brussels sprout,” I’ll double-check my plant identification first—and take a moment to really assess the full picture.