Middle Going Solo

My little sister is at camp with her friends Sarah and Greg this weekend. Which means that I am home alone with my parents. I woke up this morning and realized this unknown, awkward feeling of being the only child at home...as the middle child!

My older sister got her alone time with my parents when she was a babe. Being their first, of course she would get the extra care as if she were a porcelain, million dollar check. Don't worry, I'm not bitter; this just a fact of parenthood. Or...so I've been told.

Then, the baby of the family (or the last, 3rd child) gets her glory days when she is the last one in the nest. This is the parents' last chance to be actively involved in the child's growth. And why not go out with a bang?

Thus, middle children generally have another sibling there. (Never really a bad thing. And it's not like I get that much less attention with my parents.) Which is why it is SO weird being the only child here as a middle child.

This kind of power...yeah, it makes me think back to all the stereotypical only children in movies and novels that got whatever they wanted.

Dudley: How many are there!?

Uncle Vernon: 36, counted them myself.

Dudley: 36?! But last year, last year I got 37!

Uncle Vernon: Well, some are a bit bigger than last year's -

Dudley: I DON'T CARE HOW BIG THEY ARE!

Here's to being an only child as a middle child! Besides, first is the worst. Second is the best. Third is the one with the hairy chest.