ONLY

I wasn't an only child. Just close. Mt brother is 20 years older than I with no siblings in between. So in effect, we were both raised as an only child. Which means we wanted and received attention.

I was reminded of that when I saw the young one pictured standing precipitously close to the bear trap. Actually standing in the trap which hasn't yet closed.

"He's not the only child in the room," our youngest grandson scolded us earlier this Summer. He wanted attention. He wanted it right then. He didn't want us giving that attention to his brother. And he knew how to get it. With three other siblings, it is a necessity.

I don't even like to be reminded of the silly things I did to try to get attention. Not just parental or grandparental (I wonder if that's a word, but then as my sibling says, "Sure it's a word. You said it didn't you?") So I'll just keep to myself my sins of commission. Not that I can't think of them. I'd just rather not.

Ok, one. In the fourth grade just before PE class, I wrote in ink "I love Sally" on my left arm. I showed her. She looked at my arm. Said nothing. Showed no facial expression. No rolling of eyes, no covering of eyes, no turning away. It was so cool. Like, "Yeah, I know. You're not the only one."

Or even worse but probably more accurate, "So what?"