For the youngest in the family, the hits just keep coming
Being the lowest kid on the totem pole, I had my share of childhood trauma. The first injustice I suffered at the hands of my older siblings was when I was just a baby. My oldest sister was playing with me on the couch. She was holding me up by my hands and somehow flipped me over. When she heard my little shoulders pop, she just put me down on the couch and yelled, “Mom, the baby is crying,” and walked away.
Luckily, there was no permanent damage. Except for the fact that I can’t put on my coat by myself, but thats necessarily a bad thing.
Fast forward a few years to the third grade. I had a pink blankie that I loved. Admittedly, I was a little too old for it. I also had the habit of leaving it around the house. My mom got tired of tripping over it all the time so she told my siblings to hide it from me if they saw it laying around. She thought that would teach me to leave my blanket on my bed where it belonged.
My sister just older than me found it one day and decided to hide it in the wood-burning stove. She allegedly thought the stove was cold. Little did she know there were still some hot coals underneath the ashes.
A few hours later, I noticed my blankie was missing and I couldn’t find it anywhere. My mom then told me about the assignment she had given my siblings. After a teary-eyed and desperate phone call to my sister, who was spending the night at a friends house, I found out the location of my dear blankie. I dropped the phone and ran to the wood-burning stove. I swung open the doors to find my once pink and soft blankie, now charred and smoldering. I screamed in horror, “IT’S CRISPY!”
Sadly, I’ve never fully recovered from that incident. I still sneak my daughters blanket whenever I feel the need for a little extra comfort.
Not only did I suffer at the hands of my older sisters, but my brother, too. Summer 1986: He was 18 and I was 13. He wanted to watch the U.S. Open. I wanted to watch Days of our Lives. So, I took the remote control and shoved it down my shirt. He then picked me up, turned me upside down and without a lot of effort, held me by my ankles and shook me until the remote fell out. Unfortunately for me, we were in the basement. The only thing between my head and the concrete was a thin layer of carpet. That incident landed me in the emergency room with a mild concussion.
So, if you meet me on the street someday and I can’t seem to remember your name, don’t judge me too harshly. Im the youngest child in my family and Im still feeling the effects of that summer when Bo and Hope lost to Martina Navratilova.
awwww.
As an oldest child I feel it is my duty to say…politely..that many times..the younger ones sort of deserved it
LOL.
Adorable pic
Great stories
I’m an oldest child… so my perspective is probably a little different. I look at my youngest brother and he’s a pill. NOT that YOU are a pill… I’m just sayin 
Quit your whining everyone knows it’s the middle child that truly suffers;)
Being a middle child, I would have to agree with Carrie. I distinctively remember an incident involving my brother (the youngest), my head and a croquet ball. He, of course, denies any involvement.
I’ve never seen so much plaid!!!!
Oh, good times, good times. Nowadays, a report like this would have landed all of us in the care of DSS. Luckily, we are no worse for the wear.
Chris- Too true, my friend. Admittedly, I was obnoxious. It got the point where my mother would only intercede if death was eminent.
Mel- Yesterday, I was a copycat. Today, I’m a pill?! Girl, you better send me some more jewlery;)
Carrie- “Mom always liked you best.”
Amanda- Carrie and I have a similar story involving a hairbrush and a sun blister. Ouch! I won’t say who was on the receiving end.
Millie- What do you think of the hair parted down the middle?
Picture was taken cerca 1981.
LW- “No worse for the wear.” Easy for you to say, you were at the top of the totem!
CPS came but we couldn”t get them to take you.
((Big Rich))
“It’s crispy” had forever being imprinted in my memory.
Man! That smackdown from pops is gonna leave a mark.
Nothing like family to help you keep it real.
I’m laughing at the family assembly line version of ‘Laying On Of Hands.’
Very effective.
Oh, I so sympathize with the blanket thing! I had (HAVE, actually) a blanket that my mother/father/
sisters/GOD would have had to take over my dead body. It was blue and soft and perfect. Now it’s gray and shredded and still perfect… only safely kept deep in my closet now. Somehow, I don’t think my boss or husband would understand if I still draped it around my shoulders all day.
My daughter is almost 20, and she and her pink blankie are still inseparable. I’m not sure she would survive if it was cremated…fortunately, however, she doesn’t drag it to her college classes.
As the oldest of 5 I would like to say, “Thanks for giving my youngest brother’s perspective.” NOT! He was the favorite. I had to do all the work and if he did something wrong, I GOT IN TROUBLE!
Perhaps I need a pink blanky to help me feel better. I’ll take mine soft and fleecy. Crispy is just not my thing;)
Lucky you survived!. I noticed that your smile in this picture looks an awful lot like the one you posted of Mini Me today. Cute!!
Hence the moniker. Thanks for noticing:)