My favorite child … today

In June, some of the children decided they knew which was my favorite. I contended I had none. After I talked with my friend at the library with four children, I decided to follow her example and agree with them.
In July, we visited my favorite son, his wife and 5-month-old daughter. I insisted that everyone else had to yield car space to the pile of garage sale finds I had purchased for my pet. He said he could use a few of the things I laid at his feet.
The next week, my favorite child, a junior in college phone in ecstasy, “The professor says I have an A going into the final test in Organic Chem II.” After a big fat F on the first test, he had studied organic chem night and day.
“So, Mom, is there any incentive for me to get an A in this class?” For him” My cherished child? I would give him the world.
A few days later, I won a portable CD players. I knew exactly which child to give it to – if he got an A the next day. I called to tell him.
“A portable CD player?! All right! I was studying chemistry when you called. That should keep me going.” He got the A — and the CD player.
The next week, my favorite child needed the family mini-van to move all his books, computer and clothes to Indiana for his first year of graduate studies. Because he is my favorite, I talked his father into loading all his boxes into the car top carrier. I wanted to be sure he had everything he wanted in his new room. The weight left a dent in the roof, but my favorite’s books arrived unscathed.
In Indiana, my favorite one was moving his family from an apartment to their first home. All summer we had planned to help with his transition. For five days, my husband put in 10 and 12-hour days pounding nails, slapping up dry wall and sanding. I made the kind of meals I thought my favorite would enjoy.
My husband enjoyed the work too much. We all pushed him to fulfill his promise o take my favorite child to the beach at the Michigan dunes. Once there he led the charge up the mountain of sand while I supervised the lunch box. After sandwiches sprinkled with sand, everyone tiptoed into 65 degree water. My favorite child got an earache. I tried to warm it away with my hands. We did not leave until the favored child was ready.
On the way home we delivered the T-shirts I had carefully selected to reflect the personalities of my favorites three daughters.
Later, as we again helped at the new house, one of my children asked me to go to town for something. I questioned the request until my heir said, “You know you want to do it. I’m your favorite child.”
“Oh! I forgot. Today you’re my favorite child. I’ll get the keys.” One of the others overheard me. He stared at us so strangely as we walked out that I felt compelled to explain, “Sometimes I forget who is my favorite.” I think he is still bewildered. He should be. After all, he is my favorite and I would hate for him to hear otherwise.