By the time you’re the fourth child, like me, in a family of four boys, you start to understand your role in the broader ecosystem. I found a note in our family blog from 2012 called “the Meyer Theorem of Birth Order” which my Dad reflected like this:
First Child
Literally the “FIRST CHILD”. Of the Earth. He is brilliant. He does things. He points.
Second Child
The hand-me-down child. This child will never own a new, well, anything. There will never be anything new. Not even sneakers or underwear.
Third Child
The Tylenol PM child. Also known as the ratty car seat child. This is when you really want that disgusting banana-smeared car seat to just hang on for the 7th or 8th year. And you are having rock, paper, scissors tournaments with your wife every night to see who gets to take the Tylenol PM.
Fourth Child
Lord of the Flies. This child will show up to dinner without a shirt, toilet paper wrapped around his head, and will have outlined his eyebrows in permanent marker.
Here is my updated version:
First Child. Ben. Minimum viable product / proof of concept. The one born when your parents know nothing. Mom and Dad admitted they were shocked that they were allowed to bring home another human being. Turns out Ben is actually pretty smart. Having now lived with my parents for 18 years, that might be a mutation.
Cooper is definitely the rough draft (for moi). He now demands new clothes so he is a little bit prettier but people mistake us all the time so really he should be taking that as a compliment. He also tends to walk into things. This is more aligned with mom and dad.
Griffin, the panicked 2 a.m. essay. Griffin is what happens when “you have to get something done”. Griffin embraces “middle child” with glee. He sent this into the family chat last week:
And then there is me, Christian Junior. The extra credit. The final test subject. The human construction known as “parenting after 27 cumulative years of experimenting on everybody else”. Kind of like Jurassic Park when the super smart dinosaurs emerge while nobody is looking.
I’m in my senior year of high school with the house basically to myself now. This means I get the first pick of everything in the fridge, anything my siblings left behind is now legally mine, the dogs have decided I’m their favorite, and I have full control of the TV. Life is good! #ThatC2Pack
But anyways here’s the family update, delivered by the one still stuck at home while everyone else wanders unconvincingly into adulthood:
Ben “Bean” — the 27-year-old elder.
This year, Ben collected passport stamps from Japan. Bulgaria. A Renaissance fair. And also Halloween, where he dressed as Lowly the Worm from Richard Scarry.
Ben also got engaged this year! Congrats to him and Lily. Though, they should know this means they are both now required to join my Minecraft realm and help me survive the Nether. Sorry Ben, engagement is not a valid exit strategy. We need more iron ingots.
Cooper “the Rough Draft” — 2/4.
Cooper went with his college friends to Argentina this year, where they timed their ski trip perfectly with the least snowfall in the country’s recorded history. Nothing says adventure like being trapped in Patagonia with six guys who pack one pair of socks for a week and what they thought was toothpaste but turned out to be moisturizing lotion.
Cooper also found a girlfriend. A real one. An actual human person who seems to like him voluntarily. Miracles do happen. Katie said that she had actually been searching for a couch and then Cooper Couch Meyer showed up. We are very proud.
In other news, his intramural sports career has fallen off a cliff. He got lit up like a christmas tree pitching in both his softball and kickball championships. I am also taller than him.
Griffin “the absent minded professor” — the monk.
Griffin is in his senior year of college, roaming through life the way a Roomba roams through a living room: bumping into things, sending alerts, occasionally getting stuck.
His texts with the family remain uniquely Griffin:
9:27 AM: “I presume we don’t have any Uncle Sam hats?”
11:13 PM: “I am more contained in my messes. Specifically to the liminal space of my cave.”
7:34 PM: “I love it down here, but I don’t understand why people here feel the need to keep talking”
8:11 PM: “I’m losing my youth at this town meeting.”
6:23 AM: “I’m metamorphosing into an egg”
1:13 AM: “I have a reputation for fake mustaches.”
12:32 PM: “I forgot to get mustaches from Walmart :(“
12:33 PM: “Would you presume that Five-Below has mustaches?”
4:34 PM: “I just got ordained.”
Which led to some ambition in his Halloween costume.
I was crafting my gingerbread house when Griffin scared me half to death by popping up out of nowhere – “Hello brother! Is there any opportunity for me to meddle?”
Dad
Dad decided this year he’s “project Dad.” The only problem is that Dad finishes roughly 38% of the projects he starts.
Last week he painted half the kitchen yellow. Not a wall, nor really a meaningful section. Just enough to make the room look like a Jackson Pollock painting.
I will say that in doing this project, he plugged a hole in the ceiling that has been there, hmmm, let me think. Just before I was born. And I am…almost 18! With a sock stuffed through the hole to, as Dad put it, insulate the kitchen. So on the positive side, it’s almost like we have a new house.
Sometimes when people say “are those your parents (and Uncle)”, I have to admit I can find myself pausing every now and then.
Mom
Mom has taken on a new mission of her own where she convinces my older brothers to meet for brunch or dinner in Boston, and before they know it, she’s driving them back to our house in Concord. It’s basically a gentle kidnapping. Once they’re here, she wins them over with home-cooked meals, the dogs, and free toiletries.
Don’t worry about the economy. Google stock is up because Mom keeps buying extra photo storage. Her technique involves her holding down the shutter button where she takes 30 slightly different versions of the same photo. Actually, that is not true. They are all the same photo.
She did lead the marketing for Concord250 and took some cool ones:
And then there’s me — Christian, final draft.
I am spectacular. People talk a lot about AI but really if you have three unsuspecting brothers who are easy to manipulate then you kind of end up at the same place. You can pretend not to know things. You can pretend when Mom yells “CHRISTIAN” that she is actually talking to Dad. And, you get so many clothes!
On a more serious note, I have learned grit, perspective and perseverance from my family. And it paid off in an amazing way last week – in the last minute of the last football game of my career, I scored my first and only touchdown at Fenway Park against Lexington in celebration of the American Revolution 250th. That was beyond cool. That’s me, #10. I am off to the University of Richmond next fall so luckily the Patriots and Red Sox colors are kind of similar. Very excited!
From the Meyers household to yours — happy holidays!
May your season be filled with family, warmth, laughter, and group chats that make more sense than ours.
— Christian
(and technically also Ben, Cooper, Griffin, Christian (Dad), Polly, and the dogs)
(Oh. And if you saw our holiday card, then you know we (sons) got to design it this year. Drake Maye made it in because, well, because. Lucille Bluth from Arrested Development I think is really a spirit who wanders around our house. She had to be in. Snoopy’s dog house for the dogs was fitting really. And the Tie-fighter I honestly have no idea. Enjoy!)
10 pennies and a duck 