3 of 8 is the oldest of the boy population at the house. He is bookended by two older sisters and one younger until he finally gets to a brother in the number 5 slot. He has many a time bemoaned being surrounded by sisters, surrounded by Barbies, surrounded by lip gloss and nail polish and hair clips and such. He and his two younger brothers have formed a strong solidarity group known as 'The Guys'.
But like any challenge we face in life, there is a silver lining. 3 of 8 is learning the mysterious workings and whims of the female population. Navigating the rough waters of living with five sisters and one mother (who is often pregnant, post partum, pre-menstrual, post menstrual)---well, there are just some lessons there that can't be learned except by experience.
Take, for example, the exchange between 2 of 8 and 3 of 8 just an evening or two ago. 2 of 8 wanted 3 to go downstairs and take care of a multi-step errand for her. 3 went downstairs on the requested errand, but he apparently did not accomplish the errand in the order 2 of 8 intended. When he returned upstairs, 2 of 8 said with exasperation, "That's not the way I meant you to do it! You didn't do it the way I wanted to!" to which 3 of 8 replied, "You're right...I'm so sorry that I went all the way downstairs and got all the stuff you wanted and brought it to you back up the stairs but that I somehow did not do it the right way. You're right and I'm wrong and I'm so sorry." (This was all said with just the tiniest amount of a smirk and some sass).
You see, my work here may be done. The kid has cracked the code...apologize, apologize frequently, apologize whether you blew it or not. The keys to a woman's heart. And he can change diapers.
We'll be opening up the application process for arranged marriages soon--be looking for the widget on my blog.