The Y Chromosome

The missing Y

There must be something about it. That it creates more jumping, running, wrestling, messiness, distraction, unhappiness, crying, and craziness.

I say that because I'm missing one this week- he's in the US with Dad. So here we have one XX and one XY. And a sudden, drastic change in family dynamic. No wrestling, no fighting, no "I hate him!s" There is actually nothing but odd pleasantness. This is what I've been hearing from my children so far this week:

"Can you please pass the tape, Evelyn?"
"Oh, sure; just give it back when you're done because I'm not finished with it."
"Ok. Here. I'm done. Thanks."

"Do you have a green crayon? Can you share? I don't have one."

"Evelyn, do you want the last Tagalong cookie?" (*like, the last one in the house. THIS is generosity.)
"Sure, thanks."

In our house when someone says, "Hey, let's play grown-up monopoly!" it's really code for "this game will be set up and divvied out fairly nicely but in about 6 turns someone will yell, scream, and flip the board over in a hysterical tizzy due to some small slight."
... and yet, as I type, the grown-up monopoly game that has been going on for the last 6 hours is still going. and polite. No yelling, no unfairness, no board-flipping.

Homeschool has been quick, painless, and minimally complained about. The bedtime usher lacks nine repetitions. Life is eerily smooth around here.

Hm.

I could wonder about the cause, the effect, the deeper meaning of conflict, the inner child in the child. But I think I'd better just enjoy the week of 2. And, secretly, deep down, I do miss my little jumping bean.