On the Fairness of Brothers, Bugs, and Balloons

Posted September 07, 2007

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It occurred to me recently that I'm not sure Ben has used the word "fair" more than half a dozen times in his life. I take this to be a phenomenon of birth order: he's first in line, moving through life unobstructed by the pace of others, a clear view ahead only of his own personal future; if they were hikers on a trail, Birdy would be schlepping along frustratedly behind him, squawking about how many granola bars he'd gotten, how big a pack he was carrying, how bored she was of looking at his back. Sure, there's some advantage to Ben's trailblazing: Ben didn't taste a piece of chocolate until he was nearly three, for instance, while I have a recollection of Birdy gumming a miniature Snickers bar while she was still snuggled into the Bjorn. But mostly Birdy is just cross.

In the past week alone, Birdy has probably used the word "fair" -- and not in a positive sense -- about a squijillion times. And it's not always rational, if you know what I'm saying here. "That's not fair!" she cries, when you try to brush her teeth, and Ben says, "Well Birdy? You don't like it. But it is fair." "No it's not," she says, and she pulls her eyebrows into a bushy, furious V like Jack Nicholson in The Shining, feeling, about the state of things, more than a little displeased. "Birdy, honey," we say, "let's get your pajamas on," and she says, "Well Benny isn't." And when we say, "Birdy, Birdy, Benny's already in his pajamas," she says, like a crazy person standing at the altar with her own indignation, "No he isn't."

As a second child, I really couldn't be more sympathetic. My brother got 25 cents a week allowance -- enough to buy both a Wacky Pack and a gigantic throat-dripping brick of apple Bazooka bubblegum -- while I got only a peasly dime and had to pick. On Tuesday evenings my brother got to stay up for Laverne and Shirley, while I was led away after only Happy Days. I could watch only half of Captain and Tenille, half of Sonny and Cher, half of the Love Boat -- forget about Fantasy Island. And even much later, when my parents left us home alone, they -- horrors -- paid him! "He doesn't even do anything!" I cried, my own indignation waiting for me in a tuxedo at the end of the aisle. "You should pay me for keeping him company!"

It's hard to be second. And Birdy's entire worldview is shaped by this experience. Where you or I might see randomness or happenstance or the innocence of nature, for instance, Birdy sees justice or the absence of justice. Take the insect world: "Ladybugs are really nice," she announced recently while we were lounging contemplatively in the bath. "But biting bugs aren't. They're mean -- they are so MEAN! But a ladybug would never bite! Because they DO NOT like the taste of you! They think you're YUCKY! But biting bugs LOVE you! Ladybugs HATE you! So actually maybe LADYBUGS are mean!" An interesting point, yes, and perfect for a buggy remake of West Side Story. I was quiet after she finished her loud little soliloquy on shifting allegiances, and Birdy caught her breath said, "Do you like being speaked to so much, Mama?" "I do," I said, and she said, "Phew."

But Birdy is changing slowly, even though she pouts and frets over all the real and imaginary injustices perpetrated against her (Only one ginger cookie after dinner?! But it's not fair! Benny had 2! Yes he did! He didn't? He really didn't? Oh. Well it's still not fair! I'm not. I'm not a crank-a-lina. Benny is! Yes he is. He is.). Yesterday, after she refused to get a free helium balloon from Trader Joe's because of her dread of losing it to the vast and greedy sky, she sat quietly in the car next to Ben, who was holding tight to his own balloon. "Ben?" she said finally. "When a balloon flies away? It's sad. But it is fair."

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On the Fairness of Brothers, Bugs, and Balloons

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by Catherine Newman

Catherine Newman cooks for the family

Dalai Mama Dishes

Catherine Newman cooks for the family

On the Fairness of Brothers, Bugs, and Balloons

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