I was blessed with a boy and a girl, so I get the best and worst of both worlds. Sometimes, there’s not a lot of difference. For instance, my daughter is no delicate flower, and it’s generally accepted that on the occasions she really wants to haul off and deck her brother, he’s in for battle.
Other times, though, the gender stereotypes are astoundingly clear. Hair preparation is miles and hours apart, for example, although the boy will use a straightener once in a great while.
The line shone white and bright in unexpected fashion recently when it came time to plan my son’s high school graduation party.
For the most part, there was going to be a minimum of fuss. He knew there would be childhood photographs and didn’t bother arguing. I knew he wouldn’t care about centerpieces so I didn’t plan to have any. Next year with the girl, it will be a different matter, as she will have many ideas and be quite particular about how they are carried out.
Not so the boy. Good food, he said, and casual so my friends can just drop by and hang out. That’s all he cared about.
Still, I wanted his input on a couple of items, like the cake. Chocolate is fine, he said. Or white. He preferred chocolate. But whatever.
“What about filling?” I asked.
Deer in the headlights. I had to keep from laughing.
“Filling,” I repeated.
“I didn’t know cakes could have filling,” he croaked.
“You’ve had them. Cherry, strawberry. Lemon or blueberry, even.”
Still with the wide eyes.
“You don’t have to have filling. It’s just an option.”
OK. No filling.
“Frosting color?”
More wide eyes.
“School colors?”
Relief washed over his face. “Yes. School colors. Navy blue and light blue,” he instructed, like after four years I didn’t know what they were.
A brief consult settled wording and we were done. Inside, though, I still was grinning.