I grew up in a house full of boys, so when my daughter was born, I had no idea what it would be like raising a girl. Let me say for the record - it's been easy. Far easier than raising a son.
Boys are a terror. I know this from the grief my brother and I gave to my dear mom. We broke things like crazy. Windows. Toys. Each other. (No broken bones, but plenty of stitches.) We ran around the house like wild animals, yelling and screaming. We wrestled until there were tears. We aimed slingshots and bee-bee guns at each other, sometimes even firing. (Like a Jon and Kate divorce proceeding. Ha!)
Where was brother protective services when we needed it?
My daughter has been a piece of cake. She does her homework, keeps a tidy room, never talks back. Oh sure, she could help more often around the house. But she's so sweet, and so good at keeping her nose clean, I kind of don't care. She's eighteen, and far from a loose girl, she's more focused on finishing college than getting pregnant. So there are no early-grandpa fears for me! (Watch, she has a drawer full of sex toys I don't know about. Doh!)
It's not just home life, though. Sports teams have been way easier with her. Granted, girls can be catty at times, but they'd rather get along than not. Plus, the coaches early on were usually moms, as opposed to manic Little League dads. As a result, my daughter's teams had way better parental camaraderie (i.e. parties!) I love watching my daughter do her sports.
So, next time someone tells me what a headache their daughter has been, I will knock on wood and say a little thank you that my daughter has been so easy.
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