Every mother has her favorite child. She cannot help it. She is only human. I have mine.

That favorite child for whom I feel a special closeness. The one I reach out to in a rare moment. To share a love that noone else could possibly understand.

My favorite child is the one who was too sick to eat the ice cream at his birthday party, had measles at Christmas, and wore leg braces to bed because he toed in.

She was the fever in the middle of the night, the ashma attach, the child in my arms at the emergency ward.

My favorite child spent Christmas alone away from the family, was stranded after the game with a gas tank on E, lost the money for his class ring.

My favorite child is the one who screwed up the piano recital, misspelled "committee" in a spelling bee, ran the wrong way with the football and had his bike stolen because he was careless.

My favorite child is the one who fell asleep over an assignment on China that the teacher never bothered to grade, flunked her drivers test five times, and told us she could hardly wait to get out of the house.

My favorite child is the one I punished for lying, grounded for insensitivity to other people's feelings, and informed he was a royal pain to the entire family.

My favorite child slammed doors in frustration, cried when she thought I didn't see her, withdrew and said he could not talk to us.

My favorite child always needed a haircut, had hair that wouldn't curl, had no date for Saturday night, and a car that cost $600.00 to fix.

My favorite child said dumb things for which there were no excuses. He was selfish, immature, bad-tempered and self-centered. He was vulnerable, lonely, unsure of what he was doing in this world.........and quite wonderful.

The one I've loved the most is the one whom I have watched struggle.......and because the struggle was his........done nothing.

All mothers have their favorite child. It is always the same one. The one who needs you the most, for whatever reason.........to cling to, to shout at, to hurt, to hug, to flatter, to reverse charges to, to unload on, to use---but mostly to be there.