Not in a rude way just in a "me" way.
I was the youngest for about six years.
Until the real youngest showed up.
But I was the baby for a good while and what a baby I was.
I would cry from my mother's foot stepped out the front door until she came back if I felt like it.
Sometimes for hours straight.
Once my, at the time, 3 siblings all went to a sleepover and even though I declined they literally carried me to sleepover in my blanket and pajamas.
until
they carried me back home to my own bed.
I told them I did not want to go.
I was troublesome.
I loved the pool but could not swim so I used to jump in the deep end of the pool and my bigger sisters would have to get me before I drowned.
One day they didn't come so I learned how to swim that day.
I was a mess.
I broke my bones.
I got stitches.
I had ear aches.
Allergies.
And I refused to eat certain things.
Like spaghetti.
Just not the pasta.
I knew myself early I would say.
But
I was trouble.
And I cried.
A lot.
Now that I look back I must say I love my siblings.
Even bad ass Toni who usurped me.
Can't live with them.
Can't really live without them.
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