Differences
My son is learning to tell the difference. He knows Daddy is not Mommy, and is often annoyingly insistent about it. He knows he wants his monochrome stuffed rabbit to sleep on the floor, so he hurls it from the crib each night before bed. Meanwhile his brightly colored clown sleeps nestled in his tiny arms. He knows macaroni is the food of the gods, but would be unfazed by the next great potato famine.
Just a few short months ago everything was the same. Mom, Dad, the babysitter were all interchangeable. A toy was a toy. Green beans or squash, it was all vanilla to him.
I marvel at this awakening. I know that soon his ability to differentiate will begin to drive his mother and I nuts, but the novelty hasn't worn off yet. I also know the ability to differentiate will be critical to his success in the world. Everything from wearing matching socks, to choosing Kodak over Fuji, to discovering a cure for cancer will depend on his being able to distinguish subtle differences.
I wonder then, how I will deal with the time in the not too distant future when I must begin to explain that while everything is different, in many cases you're not supposed to notice. My parents taught me it was more than a little impolite to point and shout, "Daddy look! A fat man." A lesson I will undoubtedly pass along to my son. But it wasn't that I was expected not to notice the man was fat, just that I wasn't to say anything until we got back to the car.
However, in the current climate of political correctness we are expected to not even notice. Ideally, it should never register that the woman is pretty (or, heaven forbid, sexy). We obfuscate people's physical distinctions with terms like "vertically challenged", "differently abled", and "chronologically advantaged". As a society, we tend to disregard innate advantages. People are not smart or talented they simply have had more opportunities. Schools are encouraged to mainstream both the best and the worst students toward some average reference point. Companies are encouraged to deal uniformly with everyone who holds the same job code (same compensation, same skills, etc.). We have apparently entered the age of the generic human being.
I find it ironic that while my son is learning to tell the difference, his dad is learning not to. Perhaps when the time comes, I'll tell my son it's okay to notice. Just wait and tell me when we get back to the car.