The Favorite Child

A mom was sitting with her grown children one night after a birthday party.  They were all sharing stories from childhood.  The youngest shared about a time they had taken a road trip and she was left at the gas station and no one noticed for 15 minutes.  The oldest made sure everyone knew he had it the hardest and all of the other siblings should be thankful that he paved the way for them.  There were stories of missed curfews, car accidents, and fishing trips with words that have yet to ever be spoken again.

Then the question was asked, same time, every time they all were together.

“Mom, which one of us was your favorite growing up?” Everyone laughed and knew exactly what their mom would say.  She had answered the same way all of their lives.  “I don’t have a favorite.  I love all of you equally.”  favorite child.jpg

But tonight she paused a little longer and looked at each of her children as they continued to laugh and argue that they were her favorite.

She cleared her throat and the whole room became silent.  And then she looked at each of her children and said, “Yes, you’re right.  One of you was my favorite.

My favorite was the one that was too sick to celebrate his 12th birthday, had chicken pox at Christmas and wore cast on his arm every year in April.

My favorite had a fever in the middle of the night, a nightmare every night straight for 6 weeks and she was the one in my arms in the emergency room.  My favorite child was the one I punished for lying, took the phone away because he was insensitivity to other people’s feelings and informed was a royal pain during Thanksgiving dinner.

My favorite child said dumb things for which there are no excuses.  He was selfish, immature, bad-tempered and self-centered.  She was lonely, unsure of what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, and needed to have “the talk” more than once.

The one I loved the most was the one that I watched struggle to read, struggle to find his way, and struggle to find the hangers in her closet.

So, yes, I did have a favorite and all of you were that child at one time or another. My favorite needed my love the most but deserved it the least.”


Everyone sat silent.

And then their mom told everyone to stop looking around, grab their kids and go home so she could go to bed.

Go be amazing favorite children everywhere!  AND…call your mom and tell her you love her!


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