We visited Granny and Poppa last weekend. We went up on Friday, and as is often the case with a winter drive to the Valley, we were beset by bad weather. The snow fell in big flakes, creating the illusion in front of the windshield of a star field at warp speed. Paradoxically, it felt like the car wasn't moving, since the only visible reference in the storm was the car in front of us that was traveling the exact same slow speed that we were. Fortunately, nobody went off the road.
The Boy spent the weekend playing with his two boy cousins and had a great time. They are a bit rougher than he is, and we put it down to the fact that they are two brothers in constant competition with each other. The Boy, of course, is an only child - a term with which I take some issue. Friends are always saying that he needs a brother or a sister. Encouraging us like. I don't like that either. The Boy, I tell them, is state of the art reproductive technology. Subtextually that means it was very difficult for Mommy and Me to have the one. We were lucky to get one (and he's perfect). Shut up about having another.
But on the drive home I thought I'd ask a boy what he thought.
Me: Do you miss not having a brother?
Boy: Yeah.
Mamma: Do you wish you had a brother or a sister?
Boy: I already have two sisters.
Mamma: You do? Who?
Boy: Ginger and Zoë. (Our cats, if you didn't know.)
No comments:
Post a Comment