I was remarking to friends recently how interesting it is to watch my children’s innate personalities manifest after birth. When it comes to nature vs. nurture, I’m always quick to rattle off a myriad of reasons in support of the nurture side of things. I suppose it’s some way for me to feel in control of every situation. But working with my kids teaches me time and time again that crap happens whatever is inside is bound to come out.
Take my 3-year-old for instance. My youngest is a walking, talking example of When You Make Plans, God Laughs. It’s not just her surprise conception. Or, the fact that she came out penis-less when she mimicked every craving, emotion and ache that her brother’s previous birth had produced. It’s more the fact that despite our loving and patient guidance she insists on being a complete and total lunatic in public.
I’m not a parent that’s easily embarrassed, mind you. Nose picking, flatulence and questions about anatomy in front of strangers hardly cause me to bat an eye, really. My toddler though finds the most unique ways to ruffle my feathers. She’s strategic and possesses a particular set of skills. Skills she’s acquired over a short life. Skills that make her a nightmare for a person like me.
