September 4, 2015
Yesterday as I was leaving the grocery store I saw two boys run ahead of their father toward their car. They were about eight and six years old. The eight year old ran to the front passenger side door and screamed “dibs!” A women walking next to me smiled and said, “Isn’t that cute”? I gave her a forced smile but what I wanted to say was, “No, lady, that’s not cute. That’s utterly terrifying.”
Later that night I looked at my sweet little boring bundles of joy as they slept, but all that entered my mind was the swift and cruel justice of “dibs.” Growing up as the youngest of four children, “dibs” was an honor I rarely if ever achieved.
(See this photo as you wish. Two happy frolicking boys or a race to something that leaves one the victor and the other empty handed…
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