The Fairness Doctrine-Junior Edition

by POPSIE 1956

     It’s been creeping up for some time now, and has finally exploded.

     In short, my 6 year old grandson wants EVERYTHING his (almost) 11 year old brother has.

     A couple of years ago, it seemed much easier, we could tell Zach, “That’s just because Chris is the older brother, it will be your turn one day.”

     As far as Zach is concerned, that day has LONG past, and he needs quality ME time NOW!

     Chris can’t do ANYTHING without Zach getting his share of the cut.

     We drive through McDonald’s, Chris orders his meal, Zach wants the same.

     Come Halloween, they do trick or treating in my neighborhood, when they return, I’ll make sure they have the same amount of treats..if one has one more than another..well Popsie likes Halloween too, you know.

     Santa must deliver an equal number of presents.

     When they wrestle on the bed, they each must do the same number of “finishing moves.”

     This past weekend, we were horsing around in the backyard, they enjoy beating up on poor Popsie; when Chris attacks me, Zach must do the exact same action.

     It even extends with who gets to sit in the front seat of my car…

     Couple of weekends back, I took the boys out for awhile. As discussed in my last blog, we were going to do Lunch and Game Stop.

     Chris gets in the car with the disposable camera I gave him; as soon as Zach sees it, he goes storming into the house like a madman looking for HIS camera..

     Of course he can’t FIND it, then says Chris has HIS camera.

     Didn’t make a difference, the other camera was SOMEWHERE in the house, and my daughter Megan assured me she would look for it.

     Note to Megan..it’s been two weeks, where’s the damn camera?

     So, here’s our route;

     Their house to a CVS, Chris in front, Zach in back.

     First CVS to second CVS, same.

     Second CVS to McDonald’s, same (but I told them that one, since it was right across the street, was a Popsie Optional Freebie).

     McDonald’s to Game Stop, Zach in front, Chris in back.

     Game Stop to home, same.

     Zach keeping score the whole trip too.

     Last week, I was at Zach’s basketball camp, Chris was made to go instead of coming to my house and he was PISSED!

     He spent the whole hour in silence with my phone.

     The minute camp is done, they are both jockeying for position of the Front Seat Companion, problem is, we’re only doing one trip, a drive through for a burger, then home.

     I’m forced to present an option, at the time, Chris had the phone (I knew Zach would want it), so I say “OK, Zach, what do you prefer, playing with Popsie’s phone, or sitting up front?”

     I wanna sit with you Popsie!”

     “OK, Chris in the back with the phone, Zach up front with me.”

     Both boys agree, and the ride home turned a rough event into a pleasant ending.

     I tell you, the U.N. could use me.

     Another case in point, birthday presents.

     Zach had his birthday in March, he wanted a kid’s dirt bike, WAY too expensive, but nonetheless we juiced up his day and gave him a great birthday.

     Zach was fine with it all, but on occasion he wonders what happened to the dirt bike.

     Forgot to tell you Santa couldn’t take care of it last Christmas either.

     Now Chris has his birthday coming up, and while he’s getting nice stuff for his special day, it’s only a matter of time before the damn dirt bike comes up again.

     Not sure as of this writing how this will be resolved, but if someone has a spare kid’s dirt bike, feel free to reach out.

     Actually, make that two.

     And they must be exactly the same.

     No exceptions.

     Certainly the competitive nature in these brothers will remain for the rest of their lives, but I’m confident this little tension will subside; after all, in six years, Chris be in high school and doing his own thing, and Zach will not need to have that me, me me attitude.

     Wait a minute…

     I forgot about the baby in the family.

     Mason will then be the new Zach…

     Crap.

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