Issues of Entitlement

One would think that someone with the lack of entitlement issues that a sixth-of-eighth child can have would know better than to marry a firstborn, only male.

But he was so cute.

The past thirteen years have turned up scores of differences, some of which stop me in amazement.

An example: when I hunt in the utensil drawer for a pancake turner-type tool, I take the best one I can find. If the one I truly prefer happens to be there, I am delighted. I know it must be my lucky day. This is because, as the sixth child, I am not used to getting what I really want on a regular basis. For my true preference to really turn up for me is a coincidence, a lucky strike. I mean, for years, what were the odds?

But if Paul can't find the pancake turner-type tool he prefers, he forgets that something in the pan must be turned right away and launches on a mad search for it. Uprooting dozens of spoons, potato mashers, brushes, kitchen shears, and, yes, three other pancake turners, he cannot, can NOT proceed without the one he likes.

Because when he was a child, he was one of only two children. He was the oldest. He was male. The thing he wanted was there for them. Or it had better be.

In the time that I would have mentally shrugged, grabbed the nearest tool and flipped over the food--ten times--Paul has started muttering about the drawer being a mess and nothing ever being where it should be. EVER being where it should be--when he fully expects it to be there always, unlike me, who considers it a lucky find.

Utensils get placed on the counter. The dishwasher is searched. An inquiry is begun. Now half the kitchen is a mess in addition to the drawer, and I think, "Wow! What would it be like to have gotten what you wanted so often in your childhood that you still expect it, every time?"

I am both amazed and dismayed. In awe and embarrassed. I wonder, "Should I start to act like that? Would it increase my chances of being pleased?" On one level, I'm really envious.

But, as I move to act practically in the crisis, I think, no. I'm fine as I am.