At dinner the other night, distant relatives of my husband sang the praises of their 25-year-old daughter.

“She’s coming into her own. She looks so gorgeous and has a wonderful job that she loves. She is finally settled,” her mother said.

I’ve only met this daughter a few times, and so I didn’t have much to add, except to say how happy I was to hear that she was doing well.

I was a bit surprised a few days later when the same daughter called me – she lives in South Africa – to see if I could help her figure out if she should move to London or New York. Should she go to film school or work as a beautician? Could she get a student loan in America? What’s the difference between an undergraduate and graduate program?

She seemed lost and lonely. When we finished talking, I wondered if her mother really thought she was settled or was just saying that because it was too painful to discuss the truth. I’ll never know, but when it comes to the art of denial, I think parents take first prize.

A study published in this month’s Pediatrics magazine illustrates the mysterious ways of denial. The study, which surveyed 223 children, ages 2 to 17, found that many parents fail to see that their pleasantly plump children are, in fact, overweight.

Nearly 40% of the participants in the trial were overweight or at risk for being overweight. When the researchers asked those children’s parents if their children were “overweight” or “a little overweight,” only 36% agreed.

But when asked to select a sketch of their child, ranging from very thin to very heavy, 70% of the parents of overweight children selected a middle or heavier sketch.

It turns out that parents know exactly when their children look like – they are just unable or unwilling to use words to classify them.

While our children’s weight is a particularly delicate subject, there are all sorts of other issues surrounding children that parents prefer to deny.

What is it that makes it particularly painful for parents to discuss our children’s weaknesses, failings, and mistakes, even with our closest friends and family? Are our children so much a reflection of us that we hesitate to discuss them candidly, as if in the process we’re literally exposing ourselves?

In New York, when it comes to owning up to our children’s faults, I often find that parents come in two versions: the deniers and the professors. The deniers don’t just overlook their children’s failings. Like my husband’s relatives, they bend over backward to create the most glowing image of a picture-perfect child.

Similarly, the professors don’t just outline their children’s issues. They come clean. It’s not enough to admit that their child is struggling. They want to tell you every last gory detail of their child’s mishap, as if anything less than 100% of the story is tantamount to, well, denial.

At my son’s school there are two boys with behavioral problems. One child’s mother is open about her son’s issues, frequently sharing her frustration or elation with his progress. The other boy’s mother is silent about her son’s problems. This mother seems upbeat even when her son’s troubles are apparent to all the other parents.

When the first child acts inappropriately, often at the expense of the structure of the classroom and the children in it, the parents are quick to forgive him. They express genuine concern about his setback, sometimes calling the mother to check in.

“His parents are so up front about his issues that I really feel like I’m rooting for them,” a parent in the class told me. “I can see how hard they’re trying and of course I realize that I could be the one in their shoes.”

On the other hand, when the denier’s child acts inappropriately, patience is as scarce as a kindergarten spot at a hot private school.

“I don’t think they realize how angry all the other parents are,” one parent in the class said. “His behavior influences our children and their ability to learn. We’re left in the dark and we’re sick of it.”

Sometimes, even if their own child has not been affected, parents can be enraged by other parents’ denial. This is especially upsetting when a parent can see that this denial is preventing a child from getting the help he or she desperately needs.

“My friend has now moved her child to a different school for the second time because she doesn’t want to hear what the school’s director has to say about her child and her learning issues. So instead of sticking with the school – the same school she raved about two years ago – she is picking the kid up and transferring her,” a friend told me. “And of course, the issues are obvious to everyone. Everyone except my friend.”

So when is it appropriate to step in and say something to a friend?

Now that is an entirely different column.

sarasberman@aol.com