People often ask which of our four heirs is my favorite. The expected response is, “I don’t have one,” and I suppose in the aggregate, that’s true. But let’s be honest, on the daily, there is absolutely a podium placement for Most Loved Kid. And though it changes frequently, I’ve noticed the gold medal normally goes to whoever is in their happy place, typically when they are away from the expectations of established family roles.
To that point, last week’s Champion Child was our youngest, simply because I had the chance to spend time with just her. We traveled to Massachusetts for a few days to visit fancy colleges and geek out on American history (our reenactment of the Boston Massacre is sure to become legendary). It was amazing to me that once I got her on her own, she transformed into a totally different person. Instead of encountering an angsty teenager who constantly competes with her older brothers and verbally spars with her sister, I enjoyed a kind and caring young woman who is quite funny (she dramatically threw the “snowball” at my unsuspecting British soldier, beginning the aforementioned Boston Massacre reprisal).
Now that we’re back home again in Indiana, she’s returned to her usual MO of either hiding in her room except, for meals, or running off to hang with her besties. We communicate through eye-rolling, cold silence and incessant hurumphing, if we see her at all. It’s a struggle to remember that the girl with whom I’m occasionally interacting isn’t necessarily who she is.
Suffice it to say, she is no longer my reigning favorite. Congratulations Male Heir No. 2!
Peace out.
