Priority Seating

Priority seating in the van has been a constant point of contention for the preschoolers as of late. Sis, in keeping with time honored airline policy, thinks that she should be seated first since she is in the rear. Mister, in his primary roll as ‘little brother’ has taken up the opposing cause with matched passion, ducking and elbowing to scramble in first only to block the isle with his legs and luggage. Realizing, after weeks of high-pitched protest from sister, that he was indeed impeding our departure, he compromised by standing in his car seat so as to let Sis pass before arranging himself and his belongings. I considered it a workable solution and pretend not to hear them discussing the finer points of sibling power negotiations.

Tonight we made our way to the van for the day’s tenth errand. As we waited for the garage door to open I heard Sis sigh loudly, “Oh, man, here comes something I do not like.” Then she turned to her brother and in a forced soprano singsong said, “Brother, would you like to get in first?”

I was so proud. She had discovered the secret of happiness. She had offered the olive branch with grace, even if begrudgingly and added the sweetness of enthusiasm, even if forced. I think she is ready for Mommihood.