Pure Domination

Ever since the girls were born, Kathy and I have enjoyed speculating which one was going to be the dominant one. The one that decides which games to play. The one that bosses the other one around and finishes the other one’s sentences and answers all the adult’s questions and beats the other one up when she gets weary of her antics.

Right now, the smart money’s on Leah. Here’s a scene I overheard this morning as the girls were laying in their cribs, just after waking up.

Riley: [laughs for no particular reason]
Leah: [in scolding voice] Riley, no laughing.
Riley: [pauses, then laughs again – a very fake exaggerated laugh]
Leah: [in “parental” sounding voice]: Riley, it’s not time for laughing. It’s time for talk.
Riley: [pauses and thinks]
Riley: Okay.

Not only is Leah bossy as all hell, but she loves showing off all her physical and mental superiorities. If you ask a question, Leah will makes sure that she answers before Riley does. If they’re putting together a puzzle, Leah will make sure that she puts in the final piece. If Riley does something bad, Leah will scold her, and scold her in exaggeratedly loud voice.

“Riley, don’t spill the cheerios!”
“Riley, don’t pee pee in the crib!”
“Riley, don’t put your feet there!”
“No, Riley, no. Don’t do it.”

Leah’s totally gonna be that annoying nerd in school that raises her hand and answers every question the teacher asks and narcs on all her classmates when they do something wrong, isn’t she? Oh no, she’s gonna be Rachel from Glee, isn’t she? Aw, crap.

Of course, Riley’s got to show off her superiorities when she gets the chance, too. Right now, her big advantage over Leah is that she’s a world class flirt, particularly with guys that she decides she likes. If she decides she likes you, she’ll smile coquettishly, bat her eyelashes, giggle, and basically make you her little slave. It’s a good little superpower to have in the toddler world.

But, I think the Leah’s superiority-thing is starting to get to Riley a little bit. We’ve been seeing signs of some competitiveness creeping in. Like when they go down the block on their little scoot-bikes, Riley will make this conscious effort to stay in front of Leah at all times. Leah speeds up, Riley speeds up. Leah slows down, Riley slows down. This would work fine except for the fact that Leah is, like, three times as fast as Riley. So Leah suddenly hits “turbo boost” mode, and Riley struggles for a few seconds to stay ahead, turning all red and looking all frantic. Out of pure desperation, she’ll start swerving back and forth across the sidewalk, trying to cut off Leah’s passing path. But then, inevitably, Leah will leave Riley in the dust and Riley will break into heartbroken tears. Leah then grins with the glow of a thousand suns, takes a little victory lap, and chants “USA! USA!”

It’s a sad sight to see, but whatcha gonna do. It’s a cold, cruel, competitive world out there. Even for a two-year old.