My Up, My Down, My Pride And Joy

In “Fiddler on the Roof,” Tevye’s daughters sing about the boy they hope will be their match. When one sister professes an interest in the rabbi’s son, the others scoff. Indignant, she demands to know why this is laughable. Her sister offers, “Because we’ve only got one rabbi, and he’s only got one son.” To which the interested sister replies, “That makes him the best, and why shouldn’t I want the best?” Good question. An even better question is: What is it with only sons? They are the subject of history, myth, legend and lore. Henry VIII killed for one, John the Baptist prophesied one, and most cultures do not consider a man complete without one. What’s up with that? I’ve had four children but only one son, and he’s the one who tried to do me in. Bed rest for weeks, panicked trips to the emergency room, premature labor, and incessant worry. All for nothing, it turns out, since he showed up sixteen years ago today big, fat, and healthy. There is something visceral and therapeutic in having a child of the opposite gender. For the first time, you experience the other in a pure form and the best of you can respond. In no offering is the mother-son relationship more completely and lovingly showcased than the greatest stalker story of all time: Robert Munsch’s Love You Forever. If you’ve read it, you know what I mean. If I could only have one son, I’m glad it was Connor.

P.S. Happy Birthday, Con-Man!

http://www.amazon.com/Love-You-Forever-Robert-Munsch/dp/0920668372

http://robertmunsch.com/