This post is dedicated to my two daughters. Who have got to be the best two daughters in the entire world.
I mean, who else would make me a birthday card such as this?
Not my boys, that’s for sure. As I’ve told you before, girls and boys are made of entirely different stuff.
At least the ones in our family.
I know my sons will be sure to distinguish themselves in another way some day. Like, for instance, if they ever install a wireless router that actually works in my house. I shall be forever grateful. Because I sure as hell can’t figure stuff like that out.
Or if I ever find myself under attack from a vicious virtual army and they come to my valiant rescue with their battle tested thumbs to defeat the enemy. That is something they’ll be far better at than the girls. Although I should mention that the girls are still much better at it than me. The few times I’ve played Call of Duty, I was dead five seconds into the game.
Oh, and the boys are also good to have on your team when you play 30 Seconds. Especially when it comes to such pesky questions as “capital of Norway” that will have the girls swearing that they’ve never heard of such a place before and why should they be expected to know this when it has never come up in school.
But card making prowess, and the required stamina, is not one of the boys’ strong suits.
I mean, they moan, as if it was truly the end of the world, if I ask them something as simple as to unload the dishwasher.
“All those dishes?” they will ask, horror on their face. It truly seems like a monumental task. Never mind that they’ll be done two minutes later and proceed to playing on the xBox for the next six hours straight. If I ask them again to do something later that same day, they are incensed.
“I already did all this work for you today,” they protest, indignantly.
Maybe this is just practice for their later lives as husbands, when they will have to work up their resolve for two weeks before changing a light bulb.
The girls, on the other hand, can lock themselves in a room all day and work at my birthday card. For thirteen hours, to be precise. Without anyone prompting them. In twenty-three different colors, using eleven different fonts they’ve practiced over the last three weeks. And – this is the most amazing part – they can do this without ever having a single fight. Perfect harmony for the greater good.
They can also spend days devising a Jeopardy game on Powerpoint for Mother’s Day, complete with coupons for the grand prize that promise future pedicures, massages, and bathroom scrubbings.
To be fair, Zax made me a sushi Mother’s Day dinner, which was actually a lot of work. Partly because he insisted on measuring every ingredient to the exact gram. But also because making sushi is just a lot of work. Sure, Noisette supplied all the initiative, or it would never have happened, but still.
Something in the boy column.
Today, however, I’m saluting my girls.
Thank you for the very special birthday card!