This afternoon, I came home from school and was ready to kick my feet up and relax. After I did the dishes, laundry, homework, and started supper....I had 10 whole minutes before time to go pick up Tucker. I decided to spend my precious minutes reading a Time magazine article that caught my attention. The article is titled Why Mom Liked You Best: The Science of Favoritism.
I initially picked up the article so that I could finally put the debate between me and my siblings to rest. Once and for all. I am Moms favorite. You can ask my brother, and he is certain that he holds the title. My baby sister believes it is her. I know that it is me. I wanted to read the article to have the science to back it up.
After I started reading the article, I became a little less interested in proving that I was Mom's favorite. Science didn't appear to be on my side. Apparently, Moms weren't as likely to pick a middle child as their favorite, which is me. And when siblings are mixed boy/girl, she is less likely to choose the oldest girl. So, I decided to move on. I didn't need the stinkin' article to prove it anway.
Besides, Mom and I know the truth. Sometimes we get together and just laugh at how much more she loves me than them. The joke is on my brother and sister. Suckers!
I started to be more concerned, though, with which one of my sons was my favorite. Could it be possible that I favored one over the others? The article plainly states,
"If you have kids, then you have a favorite child. It's hardwired into all of us."
I mulled this over for a moment before I continued to read. Which one of my boys was my favorite? Was it Tucker? Could it be Sawyer? Or maybe Carter?
The article says that sometimes Moms choose their oldest child. So that would be Tucker.
Tucker must be my favorite.
Then the article stated that often times Moms choose their last born as their favorite. So its Carter. Carter is my favorite.
But then I read further. It said that whichever kid is the strongest and most muscular is usually the Moms favorite because they are more likely to create grandchildren. So that would be Sawyer. He is certainly the most muscular. He is my favorite.
It then gave reasons why Moms would choose the smartest of the group. This part got a little dicey, since all of my boys are brilliant. They can actually, all do math much better than me, which makes me feel like a loser. That makes each of them equally less of a favorite....which in turn, makes them evened out again.
The article said that the favorite child is sometimes the child who depends on their Mom the most. Right now, I guess Carter needs me more than the others. That makes him the favorite.
The Mom very often chooses the child that looks the most like them. The one that shares the most physical traits. Since Tucker and Carter look almost identical to Bradley, then Sawyer wins it.
A child who is helpful and dependable can be chosen as the favorite. This is a great description of Tucker. He nudges them out.
Science strongly supports that physical appearance can be the determining factor. Whichever son is "handsome" would have the upper hand at being chosen. This factor has to be totally ruled out with my sons because......well....have you seen them? Geez! They are all really handsome! I am not predjudice!
The Time article goes on to tell the story of how the black eagle sibling chicks respond to each other. The stronger of the birds peck the weaker birds until they die and the Mama bird just stands idly by. The article says that humans are smarter than the birds, but we are still wired the same way. I beg to differ.
The more I read of the magazine, the more I decided that the author of it was wacko. He was wrong about many things, but I decided to agree with him on the main issue of the favorite child. I do indeed have a favorite. The tricky part is, that who my favorite is changes about a million times a day. Every day. As I wrote this blog and looked at the pictures, I fell in love with each of them over and over again. Each time one of the boys speaks directly to me. They are my favorite. When I am looking at one of their handsome faces.... that one is my favorite. When one of the boys is away from me, I am missing them. So that one is my favorite. When one son does something wonderful, then they are my favorite. When one of the boys gets upset and needs some reassuring, then that one nudges out the others. As I step into Tucker's bedroom for a goodnight kiss, he becomes my favorite for an instant. But then, I go into Sawyer's room, and he is my favorite. Further down the hall, the kiss falls on Carter's forehead, clearly he is my favorite. The only way I could possibly understand a parent having only one favorite child, is if they have a single child. My love is equally divided among my precious sons. They are all my favorites.
It's too bad for my brother and sister that Mom didn't feel the same way.