Brotherly Love

I always thought it would be wonderful to be an only child, but it never worked out. You see, I lost that title before I was born as I was the second child and with an older and wiser brother to help me get through childhood, followed by the difficult teenage years. My younger brother popped up three years after I was born, which not only guaranteed me that I was stuck with two brothers but also put me firmly in the tenuous position of the “middle child.” It seems to me that I should have had a choice because being a middle child has commanding responsibilities that last a lifetime and what if I wasn’t up to the job?


Obviously, the middle child is the most important, and must have the wherewithal to monitor and regulate the wars that are bound to happen between the older, much wiser brother and the younger, coddled baby of the family. My brothers both would undoubtedly claim to be wiser, and neither would claim he was coddled. I have to say that I love both brothers dearly and each has his good (and bad) traits. They are as different as night and day, but they have both helped me through a lot of tenuous situations and I’m happy to say that we are all friends, as well as siblings. My younger brother complains my blogs throw him under the bus sometimes, but I don’t. Well, maybe under a bicycle or skateboard but he can handle it.

Lots of studies have been done through the years about the traits of the middle child and I agree with some but not all of the assigned personality traits:


*Creative, yes, I can think outside of the box, my problem is coloring within the lines.


*Rebellious, well, duh, I became a Marine Corps officer and now I write books about old people in love, with kissing, and all that gross stuff, to quote my grandson.


*Independent, well neither brother would refute that claim and neither do I. Actually, independence might be my best trait. I might have learned it while I was playing the peacekeeper role. Middle children sometimes become wallflowers, but that never entered my mind.


*Melodramatic, OMG, you’re killing me. Gag me with a spoon. Not me.


The middle child has become an endangered species, because more and more parents opt out of having three or five children, they have one, two or four, so my status is now a rarity.

I have no sisters and might be a different person if I did, but so far, I’m content with my brothers and it’s good that I was not an only child. After all, who would I have thrown under the bus?

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