Life is Approximately Fair



Sometimes one kid gets more smoothie than the other.
Is anyone getting the Norman Rockwell reference here?

 One of the most valuable lessons my dad ever taught me was that life's not fair.  You can picture the scene, right? Kids whining about whatever real or imagined transgression in the world of candy/space in the backseat/size of the piece of veggie that needs to be eaten.  Somebody finally yells, "Daddy!  That's not fair!!!"  And whatever it was, it wasn't fair.  But my dad's long-suffering response? "Too bad.  Life's not fair."



You gotta look good for a job interview.

 It's hard for me to guess how many times I heard this over my childhood and adolescence, but it was enough to ingrain the lesson into the back drop of my psyche.  And as I observe life around me, and hear stories about peoples' lives, I realize how true it is.  Life is not fair.  We teach our kids that life should be fair, we teach them about sharing, giving, and other societal niceties that they will need in order to navigate through life.  And we teach them about fairness. We teach them that it doesn't matter what you look like on the outside, or what kind of clothes you wear.  It SHOULDN'T matter how you look on the outside, or what kind of clothes you wear, but it kind of does, otherwise, why should you need to clean up if company's coming over? Why else would you need to look good for a job interview? The reality is that some people have nicer clothes or toys, or are smarter or faster or stronger, or get to do things that are more fun.  We need to be grateful for what we have.  Period. 



Some kids are just more glamorous than others.
They also get hounded by the paparazzi.



Of course as a parent heavily invested in family harmony, I strive to appear fair, but I have no reservations about teaching them that Life is Not Fair.  "Mom!  He got a bigger piece than me.  That's not fair!!!"  Answer? Too bad.  Life's not fair.  And he is bigger than you anyway, so it's ok that he got a bigger piece.  At the very least, it puts an end to the whiny conversation, and it gets me out of having to count out jellybeans and measure each kid's slice of pie.



Sometimes an uninvited thunderstorm crashes a pool party
and gets everyone wet. Meaning the parents in the lounge chairs.
 Totally not fair.



Some kids don't even have nice clothes to wear,
and end up just running around naked playing with garden hoses.



Other kids play in cardboard boxes because they don't have nice toys.

And some kids hog all the water in the shower.
Unbelievably unfair.