I Prefer Brudder

My four year old looked at me this morning and said, matter of factly while consuming his cereal, "Mommy, I prefer brudder to walk me to my school class." 

For a moment  I basked in vocabulary pride at his use of prefer.  I have never been one to talk down to my kids.  I talk the way I want to talk with words that are big AND small.  I just define the big ones for them.

The next moment, I had to choke back a tear or two.  He preferred his big brother to me.  It happened.  I was ditched for someone cooler-my ginger haired 8 year old. 

Of late, Caden wants to do and wear and eat and say everything big brother does.  This gets down to the irritating minutia of matching socks.  At first I thought it cute.  "Ah," I said to myself, "Caden has a hero and it's his big brother!"  I patted myself on the back at my superior parenting.  I built such a strong relationship between the two.  Good job me. 

Reality has informed me they are individuals who build their own relationships.  In the world of siblings relationships can change on a dime.  I lost years with my brother due in part to my religious zealotry and emotional brokenness.  It has only been in the past few years we have regained a solid relational footing.

What has soothed my slightly deflated Mommy ego, is my solid commitment to demonstrating I prefer them, no matter what, when or where.  To demonstrating God prefers them in an even deeper way.

I stood, in the parking lot, a little sniffly and watched my eight year old lead his little charge into the building.  I remembered it will be my arms he runs into at the end of the day and for that moment, I will be his preferred.