The Point Oh One Principle by T.J. Alexian

Topic: Entitlement

“Daddy, am I your favorite?”

Theo asked me this last night, and not for the first time. It’s a familiar question for him, one he playfully tends to ask, every other day or so.

Of course, I provided him with my standard answer, particularly since Ashes was sitting in the back of the car. “You’re my favorite son,” I replied.

“Am I your favorite daughter?” asked Ashes from the back.

Now, that. That’s a more difficult question, seeing as I have two daughters and only one son.

But I’m used to answering that one, too. “I love both of my girls equally, Ashes. You know that.”

“But if there are two of them and only one of me, does that mean you love your daughters more than your son?” asked Theo.

Ah, now there was a new question. Still, there are easy ways out. “No. I love all of my kids, equally.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” replied Theo, with a smirk on his face. It was almost as if he were waiting for me to answer, that way.

“Why not?”

“Because three doesn’t going into one evenly. Each piece is only .33333, and that goes on forever and ever. So, you HAVE to love one of us just a little bit more…just point oh oh oh oh oh one percent, to make it whole.”

I stopped for a minute, taken aback. Dammit! Whose bright idea was it to let the kid learn long division?

Later that night, once I was all alone, I called my father up on the phone. “You’re lucky you had four kids,” I said testily, the minute he picked up.

“Why’s that, Teddy?” he asked.

“Four goes into one evenly,” I replied. “It’s .25 for each kid, all the way around.”

Still, is it true? Is love spread evenly that easy to achieve? Does it really work that way? Is there a point oh one in every parent/child relationship, spoken but never uttered?

When I was growing up, I secretly thought that my parents kind of loved my sister Kerrie better. I mean, look at Exhibit One: our nicknames. I was Ed Skunk, my brother Tommy was Tom Turkey. My other sister, Laurie was Miss Pigpen. Kerrie? She was called the Princess.

That kind of screams point oh one percent, don’t you think? I’m a smelly skunk, she’s a frickin princess? I tell you, it’s enough to justify a session or two of therapy, at the very least.

As I got older, I came to realize there was more to that oh one than met the eye. Kerrie had been quite sickly as a baby. In fact, at one point, she had pneumonia and became so sick she had to be placed in an oxygen tent. She almost died.

Under that lens, I guess it’s kind of understandable that she wasn’t stuck with a mean nickname. I mean, Breathless would seem kind of cruel, don’t you think? Gaspy wouldn’t exactly be that nice, either.

When I was a kid, I didn’t get any of that. So, I just up and made up my own nickname for her. She once had a wart, so I called her the warthog. There. Nyah.

My ex-wife and my current partner in crime are the youngest in their families. I think that the youngest kids typically get treated with a little point oh one goodness from parents, for the most part. Certainly I think it’s the case with both of them.

Still, even though I was not the youngest, but the oldest, and I had the hard act of my sister Kerrie to compare with, I can easily recall times where I felt a little point oh one in my family circle. Nights where I could stay up a little later than the other kids. The piece of baked stuffed shrimp that mom and dad would set aside for me, when they’d prepare special dinners for just the two of them. They’d invite me out to eat with them after the other kids had gone to sleep.

Maybe that point oh one is a fluctuating decimal. Maybe it doesn’t stay on one child all the time, but moves about like the Golden Snitch in a game of Quidditch. Now you have it, now you don’t. That would be perfectly reasonable, I think. For parents, it’s a perfect way to spread the wealth…and answer the question, “You always loved him best.” For now, my dear. Only for now.

Who will get my point oh one today? Ah, that one’s still a work in progress. Like some third world countries, however, bribes are cheerfully accepted.

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Comments
2 Responses to “The Point Oh One Principle by T.J. Alexian”
  1. Laura says:

    It’s funny, reading this from my perspective as an only child until the age of 13. My foster sister, a year older than me, moved in then, and to this day (I won’t even say how many years later) she still swears that I am the favorite, and I think she got more coddling than I did.

    My fiancee has a sister who is my age, and it doesn’t matter who you ask, they will each proclaim that the other was the favorite. I wonder if all kids grow up assuming that their sib is the favorite, regardless of what we do as parents?

    I now have a 12 year old, a 10 year old, and an almost one year old. I think if you asked the 10 year old, he’d say that the baby is the favorite. Since he’s not yet talking (thusly not capable of the word “NO!” yet), I would have to agree. :)

  2. Ted says:

    Laura, I agree with you wholeheartedly! Those silent years are some of my favorites, even if I’m careful not to show favoritism with the kids :)

    I think we all do have this sense that our siblings are getting more favorable treatment, when growing up. I’m not so sure, now that I’m a parent, that there’s any truth to that, though! Well, maybe on SOME days…

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