My bookends are my children. They are on opposite ends of the shelf, completely and utterly different. They succumb to every stereotype that exists for boy versus girl. My oldest is a girl, 7. My youngest, a boy, 5. They are 19 months apart.
Teaching him to be a graceful loser has been a work in progress for our family. Sometimes, to amuse us, my husband and I make sure he loses. Depending on our moods, a tantrum will actually make us laugh. This picture would highlight some obvious signs of their differences. My daughter dressed as I asked her to dress, with proper winter attire including hat, gloves, snow pants, winter jacket and boots. My son? Clearly he dressed himself in defiance of my strongly worded suggestions. Some things just aren't worth the battle. At least he put on a smile.
Do I love them just the same? Of course! Because, true to form and function, bookends just don't work right without the other half.
FYI - that snowman didn't last long. Guess who thought it should be destroyed while nobody was looking? That secret remains between me and my son.