Wednesday, August 14, 2013


Last night, I came home to both boys crying.  It seems one of the neighbor girls had recently punched Elijah in the throat.  I assumed he had it coming and announced I would be reading exactly one book for each child and then it was bedtime.  No if ands or throat punches.

Thus began the nightly argument over who gets to have their book read first.  I suggested we flip a coin.  They eagerly agreed, fascinated by this new form of gambling. 

I reminded them we all had to abide by the coin’s ruling and there would be no crying, fighting or arguing once the coin flipped.

Eli picked heads and Luca went with tails.  I flipped and it came up tails.

Elijah began weeping hysterically.  Rather than go with my first impulse, which was to yell, I gently asked him why the water works. 

“Luca always wins!  Every time.  I never win.  Never ever!  The coin hates me!”

I held the coin out and explained, “Look.  This coin isn’t alive.  It doesn’t breathe or think or hate.  It’s just a piece of metal.  You had a 50/50 chance of heads.  Luca just lucked out.  The next time, Luca will probably lose.  Here.  Look.”

I flipped.  Tails.  Damn you, coin.  I flipped again.  And again.  And again. 7 times in a row.  All tails.

I looked over at Luca, who was casually strumming his ukulele.  I considered taking him to the river boat casino right then and there and posing him as a 30 year old little person.   We'd wear matching suits, of course.

Well into the double digits, I flipped again and, rather than reveal the true outcome (tails), I covered the coin and said, “Heads!  There.  Heads.  See?  Luca doesn’t always win.  Now let’s read some books.”

I caught Luca’s eye and he knew.  He knew his power.

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