The Curse of the Firstborn: "Don't Be A Baby."

They got on the elevator at the 5th floor. It was evident he had been crying, this maybe 3-year old boy with yellow hair and tear-stained cheeks. His dad and grandmother accompanied him, the father standing next to his son who was hugging the railing around the elevator, while the grandmother took the opposite side of the elevator, next to me and the door buttons.

"He looks sad," I said. The father glanced at his son then at me. "His mother is having a baby and he wanted to stay with her," he said. "He's just upset because he didn't like being yelled at."

I thought about that. I don't like being yelled at either. But I didn't say anything. They let us out of the elevator first and I could hear the little boy breaking into sobs. My heart broke a little when I overheard the man say, "Why are you being a baby? Stop crying." Pause. "Why are you crying? You can't even tell me why you're crying."

He doesn't get it, this man. This boy's life is changing forever---after tonight, he'll never be an only child again. And everyone's going to dote on the new baby, cooing and smiling. Oh, sure, he'll get attention, too, but he's not NEW anymore. Oh, the curse of the firstborn and the self-aware.