Inherently Evil

I have these silly memories of random things from different parts of my life that somehow made enough impact to stay as a permanent memory trapped in my brain. Not all of them feel that important, though. 

One of those memories is having to write an essay after reading Lord of the Flies in high school about whether mankind is born inherently good or inherently evil. The standard 5 paragraph essay complete with topic "catcher" sentence, three strong arguments and a closing were to be present. I don't even remember which side I chose to argue. I just remember the topic.

Well folks, I'm here to say that at age 31, I've finally decided on the answer. Inherently evil.

Two-year olds are selfish little beasts. Well, so are adults, but we've at least learned how to tactfully maintain our personal wants without looking like such jerks. Well, most of us have. I can't speak for all of mankind, because there are some awful people out there. 

A couple weeks ago, Benjamin was randomly speaking in the car about things he sees, remembers, and does while we were driving to one of our morning events. I listened, as I always do and was prepared to respond with probing questions.

I heard this: "No share baby bird."

Out of nowhere, he commented about a bird he's had hanging near his carseat since he was a wee-one. He nonchalantly stated that he did not want to share this {infant} toy with his sister. 

From then on, it turned into a no share baby word explosion. No share baby book. No share baby chair. No share baby toy.

Recently, we had friends come to stay with us. Naturally, most kids this age are territorial over their toys, despite taking little to no interest in those very same toys months prior and months after the incident with another kid arises. The incident where the other kid decides they want to play with the toy. Our friend's son Finn is eight months older (and potty-trained, ehm. Get the memo, Benjamin!) and wanted to play with his Thomas train set that his grandparents bought for him. Benjamin plays with these, but not often enough to warrant a battle over sharing. 

He was a typical terrible-two and didn't want to share. 

They left our house on Wednesday. Last night he says, "No share Finn train." His memory is uncanny, but these are not the sorts of things I want him to remember, unless he follows that with the lesson that ensued after he chose not to share the train.

Oh, the twos. We had a friend at dinner a few weeks ago tell us... 

"You know what the twos lead to right? Threes."