Following the leader

P, pretty young.


P did the funniest thing on the way home from the library today. We were waiting for the F, slightly before rush hour, when a full train pulled into the station. I quickly considered skipping the overly stuffed subway (as my crowd averse, ironically NYC living hubby typically does) while I watched more people push their way off of the platform. Perhaps the next train would be comfier... In that brief moment of hesitation, P gently pulled me towards a different door that seemed slightly less crowded. There was no drama to it, no "follow Me, mama", no distinct arm tug, he just saw a better option and wordlessly steered us that direction. It was funny to be led by a five year old :)

I often marvel at the immense differences between P and I. I never worried about details when I was a kid. If I was with my folks, I followed them without looking where we were going. P tries to be a part of every conversation, every solution, every decision. When we landed at JFK, post Florida wedding, he turned to me and asked, "Did you call a car service or do we catch a cab?" Um, you're very short, shouldn't you just follow me aimlessly?

Of course, the whole subject translates to me, the one narcissistically figuring it must be my fault, somehow, as: is this because we've "given" him so much choice, so much freedom, so much say in his existence? Or do we somehow seem incapable, less than reliable? Or is it just his personality.... Nature, nurture, nature nurture, nature, nurture. I guess if I could let go of the self-blame issue, it wouldn't matter a hoot (after all, P's not complaining, he tells me daily how wonderful I am).... Nah, ah, well, nature, nurture, nature, nurture.... :)