Friday, March 18, 2011
So today I was reading about moms having favorites. Not favorite pasta or shirts, but favorite kids. At face value it's pretty shocking. However, when you think about a favorite being a temporary preference based on behavior, mood, or even life stage it is so commonplace that one wonders why it is a topic at all. I was certainly not my parent's favorite when I was a sullen teen prone to emotional outbursts. I am not appalled by this knowledge. I have twins. People often ask me if I have a favorite, or if one is smarter, stronger, cuddlier, etc. In the case of favorites, I always say something silly.
"The one I'm holding is always my favorite."
"The one not screaming is my favorite."
"There aren't actually two of them, one is an imaginary friend."
I do get a little defensive when asked to say which one is more intelligent, or personable. I mean, they are not even two years old. It seems a bit early to pigeonhole them into specific types. So, I will begin extolling both their virtues. It is times like this that I do have a favorite. The one that is being compared unfavorably to the other. Mama tiger I suppose. One is being attacked and I must protect him.
Worrying about favorites in general seems a bit silly to me. As if one were in third grade and making a big production over who your best friend is this year. So, I'm not. I'm not going to worry. This concept is not a problem for me. I have plenty of stuff to worry about. I will just be thankful that favorite is not one of them.
Excuse me, I have to read this note, and pass it to Stinky by lunch.