I am the oldest of five children. My spouse is the oldest of four. I could write endlessly on the trials of being the eldest but I will spare you. (Those of you who are eldest in your respective families will all know what I have to say and those of you who aren't, won't understand!)
Today I was reminded what it is like to be the oldest child by something that happened with my own kids.
When I picked up CJ - second born - from school he proceeded to tell me that Max (the eldest) had been bad on the bus. His retelling of the incident was very funny because he told me "in Bud's voice". Bud is the busdriver.
I was highly amused at his retelling of the incident. Then it got me thinking. When I was growing up it used to drive me CRAZY when my younger siblings would tell my parents things I had been involved in prior to my arrival at home. It seemed like no matter what I was involved in - and there wasn't a lot - just enough to make this a salient memory - my parents would know what had happened before I got a chance to tell them.
Right before my eyes my ownchildhood is being re-enacted by my own kids. No matter how glad I am to know what happened and no matter how funny the telling of it was, I feel sorry for Max.
Gosh it is hard to be the oldest child.
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