Naughty and Nice

Don't get me wrong. Both of our children are wonderful. But Jacob is guileless. I don't know that I have ever caught him in a lie. Once, when he was 4, he took a Sharpie and drew all over his bedroom, including the radiator. But I think that's one of the only times he did anything covert. Most of Jacob's mishaps occur in the shape of "accidents." Last time we were at a restaurant he managed to spill his entire cup of water even though it had a tight lid on it!

Let me give you another example. This morning I packed Jacob's lunch for "art camp." The Pittsburgh Public Schools are closed this week, and we signed Jacob up for one week of "puppet camp" at the Pittsburgh Center for the Arts. We were out of bread, so I packed him boiled egg whites (he doesn't like the yokes), 2 cheese sticks, cantaloupe, a protein bar, and 2 small lollipops, of the caloric value of 25 calories apiece.

Jacob assessed the contents of his backpack to see what I had packed for lunch. "Why did you give me 2 lolipops, Mom?" "I don't know," I said. "Maybe I just wanted you to have an extra nice day." "Well, I'm going to take one out. I don't want to get fat."

Now let's take Casey. When Casey wants to do something naughty she says, "Mom, I need some privacy." This seemingly reasonable request precedes various naughty acts, including sucking the toothpaste directly from the tube, or cutting up paper on the bed, or pulling a chair over to the snack shelf and helping herself to the candy.

Yesterday Casey made some epic messes with some blue silly putty that had found its way into our house. She got my favorite silicon pastry brush from the kitchen drawer and got the putty stuck into the bristles of the brush. She also got putty stuck into her clothes, and, apparently, when I was at work yesterday and Josh was at home with the kids, she made another mess with the silly putty. I know this because Jacob reported the crime to me over the phone: "Mom, Casey made a mess with the silly putty and it's Dad's fault."

I guess I know better than to label my kids. If I decide now that one of them is "naughty" and that the other one is "nice" I'm bound to make them ever thus. But, like any parent, I'm fascinated by the differences between my children that don't seem to result, as far as I can tell, from how they've been parented.