Two-Daughter Family

When I realized Daisy sold globs of lipstick on Post-it notes to Birdie for 25 cents, I admired Daisy's ingenuity and wondered if Birdie's 25 cents came directly from my purse. I decided both girls needed to find something more productive to do. That's the way I feel about a British study. It surveyed 2,000 families and concluded that the happiest ones are those with two daughters. I applaud the study on its smartness, but I think the researchers could find something else to occupy their statistical skills. Of course, our two-daughter family is happy. When newborn Birdie joined our family, young Daisy stuffed her diapers down the toilet, twice. And as for the white towel etched with blue marker, four-year-old Birdie coolly ratted out Daisy, who knew nothing about it. Birdie knew everything about it. Sisterly piano duets died a quick death. Playing the piano with a perfectionist isn't any more fun than playing the piano with a quitter. Hogging the t.v. reared its ugly head as did borrowing clothes without asking. And then there are times when they start each other laughing. That's real sweet unless Big Guy or I is trying to lay down some law. The British study mentioned increased cooperation on chores and children who are easier to reason with. That's where the study descends into total hogwash. Those researchers haven't tried to get Birdie or Daisy to accept the peaceful coexistence of spiders, pick up their shoes or bring in the trash cans. As for boys. I wish I had one. A son could solve a spider crisis.