What it’s like being the youngest

So April was having a tough time coming up with what to write about, so I helped out and came up with a list of topics. She chose to write about “what it’s like being the oldest,” and since I am the youngest we switched it up a bit for me.

Being the youngest sucks, well for me it did. For many many reason, but I’ll talk about the ones that still irk me to this day.

The first one is that I never had my own play room! Looking at pictures as I got older I kept seeing this one glorious room full of toys and stuffed animals, so I asked “What room is that?” And the response I got from my brother was “That used to be my play room until you we’re born!” I’m not saying I didn’t have toys or a place to play, but I didn’t have my own room to do so in.

Secondly is the hand-me-downs. I have no problem in the world with wearing them, but I want to at least like them. I didn’t get the choice, I got the pair of orange and blue Girbauds that my brother out grew, and the shoes that were ugly and already worn out. I know we didn’t have money growing up, so I never made a fuss and kept wearing the ugly stuff my brother out grew!

Another is that I was never taught things from my brother, like you see on TV. He never wanted to play with me because I ruined his only child life. I spent my days playing alone or with the many inanimate objects that were my friends. (We lived pretty far from any other kids.) But my brother didn’t teach me how to play football or baseball or play video games or anything that I wished he did, I learned it from my parents or myself.

The one thing that still bothers me the most is, I didn’t get a pony and he did!!! I know, a boy wanting a pony? But yes I did and so did my brother at one point, and he got one and I didn’t, all because we already have a pony why do we need another? Don’t get me wrong, I loved Peanut, maybe more than anyone except my dad. He was a sweet pony, a retired circus pony, and loved circus peanuts. I got to ride him and pet him and feed him things from our garden, but he was never mine! I always had the worry of my brother yelling and screaming for me to leave his pony alone! He did that quite a bit, but I’d go back and keep petting him.

There are some good things about being the youngest though. My parents already knew what would kill a kid and what wouldn’t, so they weren’t the overbearing first time parents with me.

I know in this post it sounds like I have some animosity towards my brother, but I don’t. I love my brother, I wish we could have had the friendship we share now when we were younger, but we can’t and at least we are there for each other now. He will always be my “bubba” even though he has told me several times to stop calling him that, and he will always be my big brother I can go to for help!