My sisters and I are following my mom to the car as we head out to shop for school shoes.
“Front on the way!”
“Front on the way back!”
Darn it! I cannot waste time finding my favorite socks. Now I’m stuck in the back seat for the whole trip.
Kids in big families know they must remain ever vigilant when there are decidedly better options: where to sit, which piece of chicken, which spot on the couch during movie night. Suddenly, when it seems to most adults that there aren’t really choices to fight over, the kids will discover it. No one wants the brown sleeping bags, only the green ones. Someone calls the last Big Red and now cream soda feels like a failure.
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| All the Byrne kids: we never argued ;) I love us. (L to R) Kyle, Rene, Tom, Shannon and Me |
The younger kids start learning to pay attention; something might be up for grabs. A stray Hershey’s bar. Something might suddenly seem precious. The Sears Christmas catalog that’s just arrived. Something might be made valuable by the sheer expression of being called. The chance to light the fire in the fireplace. Anything can be made valuable. And anyone can be made to feel like they are missing out. Big time.
The adults teach us this, though they don’t know it. They think we’ve come up with the crazy, endless tug-of-war about the most inconsequential things.
But we hear them. In the teachers’ lounge, they talk about parking spaces. In the car, they fuss over which road to take. At night, after the kids go to bed but aren’t yet asleep, they try to plan the days ahead, go through their calendars together: I need Tuesday. Wednesday is free.
Everything--anything--is up for grabs.
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