We are a family of five – three girls, two boys – odds that were certainly in my favor.
Shopping at Forever 21 always beat out shopping at Dick’s Sporting Goods. Girl movies always beat out boy movies. Panera always beat out barbecue.
And when our eldest moved out, it was down to – two on two – but somehow the girls still ruled.
This past week, with our eldest daughter away for work, and our middle daughter just having graduated and on her senior trip, it was just the boys and myself.
It didn’t take me long to realize the tables have turned.
For the past seven days, I’ve lived in a boy’s world. Lots of chips and salsa, lots of football and lots of television shows where people prank other people. Who knew that was a thing.
And for some unknown reason, lots of socks just laying around – in the hall, by the back door, next to the coffee maker.
The boys have been in heaven because, as my son told me, “Your vote no longer matters.”
When I had my children, the thought never occurred to me that this day would come. I adored having two girls to dress up in bows and a rough-and-tumble baby boy who loved to follow his dad wherever he would go.
The fact that we outnumbered the boys seemed completely fair. We even owned girl dogs. It’s just how we were. The girls against the boys, and the girls always won.
So on Fridays, we usually go out to eat. Usually we eat wherever I want. It’s just how the vote goes. I never questioned it. It seemed fair to me.
This Friday, we ate at a pizza place.
No, not to go.
Inside. You can do that.
That’s where the boys decided they wanted to eat.
That’s where I had to eat.
My options were pizza or wings.
And the menu didn’t have the calorie count by each dish. I suppose they expected me to guess.
“On the side” wasn’t an option, either.
As my boys reveled in their newfound power, they informed me that next up we were going to see Deadpool 2.
In fact, they skipped the actual vote. Apparently, in less than seven days, they decided actually taking a vote was now a waste of their time.
“I hate those types of movies,” I moaned. “I want to see Book Club.”
They literally laughed at me.
“Mom,” my baby boy remarked, “dad and I are never going to see another girl movie again. Those days are done.”
“Take me home then,” I demanded.
“No way,” my husband remarked, “the movie starts in 20 minutes. We don’t have time to take you home and then make the movie. Either come to the movie or you can see Book Club by yourself.”
Seriously, I’m now seeing movies alone?
Thankfully, they gave me time to phone a friend, and I didn’t have to sit alone in the theater.
The girls and I usually sneak Starbucks into the movies. It’s our thing.
The boys got me a Coke Icee.
Three years until our baby boy graduates, and then the odds will be one on one again.
I wonder if Panera will still be open then…
Comments? You can email Angel Kane at [email protected] Becky Andrews and Kane are the brains behind Telling Tales, a weekly column in The Democrat.