Who's on First?

In recent weeks, the dreaded phrase “that’s no fair” has reared its ugly head at our house. As in, “Mom, that’s no fair that K got in the car first.” “Mom, why does K get more broccoli than me? No fair!” and “K always gets to take a bubble bath. How is that fair?”

I have utilized many tactics in my defense against the “No Fair” assault. I’ve tried telling R that to even things up, he can be the first in bed tonight, an offer that went over like a lead balloon. In what I thought was a diplomatic effort at equality, I have suggested that he might take up wearing diapers again since his sister does. No takers there. Many times, I have bit back the sarcastic response, “It’s because I like her more,” fearing that years of psychotherapy would be necessary to convince him that I was only joking.

After a particularly trying morning, in which I was accused of giving K her breakfast plate, milk cup, vitamin, and napkin first, I had had just about enough of “that’s no fair.”

Me: “Yeah, well you got to use my uterus first.”

R: (With a blank look on his face) “What’s a uterus?”

Me: “It’s the part of the mom where the baby grows.”

R: (Without missing a beat) “Well that’s no fun. It was dark in there.”

Oy vey.