Archive | September, 2011

Wrong Child

30 Sep

Being the last child can be quite strange. You’re the prodigal one, the one the family has to talk about, the one everyone is afraid will turn into a dead-beat hippie with dreadlocks who they will only hear from once in the next 15 years when I call to ask for bail.

I’m not that bad…

The text message I received that helped me realize I’m still the focus of my mother’s worries came after a stressful and painful day of shopping at the local Macy’s. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, a perfect day to stay inside and watch hour upon hour of NFL football. But NO, I was forced to go shopping for the upcoming dance. Needless to say, I wasn’t very pleased.

After about an hour and a half of trying to attain my sisters ideal attire (think, Ralph Lauren catalog), I returned home, exhausted, angry, and not caring about the new clothes I’d purchased. Of course, a verbal skirmish ensued between my mother and I, credited to my grumpiness. I was peeved, she was peeved, and I fled to the basement to finally¬†enjoy my Sunday.

And then: “Erik got a new bow tie for the dance. Looks very nice. Very Ralph Lauren.”

Yep, Mom sent a text to me, about me, intended for my sister.

“Wrong child.”

“Oops. Good thing I didn’t say anything bad about you…”

Am I the one they secretly observe and talk about? Well, apparently. They still talk about me. This is just one of the many problems that comes with being the last child.