I win!

The goal is to win. Beyond that, there isn't much to the brotherly battle that has invaded my home.

It's a game the boys play a thousand times a day. From the moment they crawl out of bed, I can hear the game commence.

"I win!" one will shout. Some mumbling, some running, "I win."

It used to be a simple game. One of the boys would recognize a situation in which he had an extreme advantage, announce the game and, seconds later, announce his victory. "I win."

For example, at lunchtime, Sonwun would recognize the fact the he had only one bite of his PBJ left. He sees Sontoo has half a sandwich in front of him. He says "I'm gonna win lunch," gobbles the last of his sandwich and makes the all important declaration . . . say it with me, "I win!"

This, of course, followed Sontoo's recognition of his five-stride lead toward the lunch table. At which time he declared his impending victory in the race to his chair. "I win."

I'll be honest. This game gets a little old in a hurry. Everything is a race. And I do mean everything. Putting on coats, getting in the van, opening a door, closing a door, hugging mom, petting the cat, feeding the dog, changing into pyjamas . . . the list goes on.

And I, unwittingly, seem to have changed the rules a few days ago. It was at lunch, I think, after about 75 rounds of the game in the morning.

"Everything is not a competition," I told them. "Breakfast? It's not a competition. Peeing? It's not a competition. Sitting? It's not a competition."

I did not kill the game, I merely created an "out." When Sonwun declares his victory now, Sontoo immediately throws a flag. "It's not a competition," he says. 

"You only say that when you lose," Sonwun counters.

Minutes later, Sontoo wins the race to jump into a laundry basket. "I win."

"It's not a competition," Sonwun argues.

"You say that because you lost."

And on it goes.

So this morning, as I listened from my cozy, comfortable, early-morning, book-reading, coffee-drinking couch, I heard the latest evolution of "the game," about one second after I heard the first pair of little feet hit the floor upstairs.

"First one out of the room wins, IT'S A COMPETITION."

Panicked scrambling of two sets of little feet above my head. 

"I win."

See what Sonwun's done here? He eliminated the possibility of a penalty with an additional declaration. Sontoo has no recourse but to lose and suck it up. And wait for his turn.

I have two boys. I kind of expected this, but I thought it would hit a little later. I wasn't prepared for every movement, from morning to night, to be competitive. But it is.

For now, it's feeding the dog, finding a marble, putting on socks . . . It's not important what it is. What is important is winning.

Down the road, it will be board games, street hockey and bicycle races. Beyond, it will be jobs, girls, cars . . . life. It's competitive whether you like it or not. 

And like everything else, my job, I guess, is not eliminating the competitive spirit, but tempering it. Keeping it alive, keeping it positive and ensuring that lessons are learned in winning and in losing.

First one done his blog this morning wins! It's a competition! I win!

Have a great Tuesday.