in the course of small-talking this weekend, someone asked me how many brothers i have, and i said “three.” and then i said, “they just keep on coming.”

which might have seemed like a cryptic remark (i’m not actually sure why i said it — it was one of those things you hear yourself say but did not know you were thinking), but it was reminiscent of my initial reaction to the birth of my third brother: bafflement, perplexion, confusion, bewilderment, etc.

when my parents told me that the baby was a boy, my exact words (as i remember it) were “are you sure?” another boy? really? why? we already had two.

but of course, they were sure. in an annoying, parental sort of way.

i was not so easily convinced. i distinctly remember the moment: pulling into the garage (we were driving home from school), staring at the ascending garage door, wondering how this had happened. perhaps a mistake had been made — if not by the hospital (and these things happen; i was 7; i had heard of switched-at-birth stories by then), then by God Himself (i hadn’t heard of so many mistakes-by-God stories, but even then i was presumptuous enough to think i was an exception to rules and principles.)

the odds of there being a mistake were slim, i decided after a moment’s consideration, and then sheer confusion set in. i did not understand how this God, if He was everything my parents said He was, could (in good conscience — which God would surely have) give a person three brothers and no sisters.

well, apparently He does. and, of course, because i was 7, in a matter of minutes i decided i liked this baby just fine, and i have not yet had cause to rescind that decision.

still, truth be told, for a few years after that, every time i met another little girl, i mentally calculated her sibling ratio (boys to girls). for years, i was the only girl i knew with three brothers and no sisters. one time, i did meet a girl with four brothers and no sisters, but as that discredited a lot of the research i had done, i quickly dismissed her as an anomaly.

so. the moral of this story is that God is not bound to symmetry. Which may also explain why I am only 5’2″ and my brothers are 5’10″, 6’2″, and 5’11″, respectively.