I am an only child. I wasn't a spoiled brat, but I definitely got to do everything I wanted. I think that's because I never really wanted anything that wild and crazy. Although, I wanted a sandbox and a trampoline, and I got neither. Pretty much everything else I wanted was an experience, not a thing. I'm still that way. I'd rather go out for an awesome meal than get a new iPod.
Anyway, I have seriously loved being an only child. I made friends on the playground and at the swimming pool by asking, "Hi, I'm Brigid. Can I play with you?" I get bored easily, but I'm extremely good at entertaining myself.
My whole life I've thought myself the luckiest thing because of my only-child status. No sibling warfare. Lots of time to myself. I've got no problem being alone, no dependency issues, and my parents all to myself.
But at the hospital this week, for the first time ever, I'm annoyed that I don't have any siblings. I love being here with Mom, but I seriously dislike hospitals. So I want to leave, but I don't want to leave her alone. Dad's been awesome about staying by her side non-stop, but what do only children do when their parents are a hundred?
Friend-who-cooks-Pancakes is hanging out in the hospital today talking about how he has "successfully avoided [his] sister's phone calls twice today."
So maybe it's a good thing I don't have to deal with that drama.
Happy Mother's Day.
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