Memoires of a Zim girl-- part 2

My youngest brother was a “mommy’s boy” so I found myself always making an effort to be friends with my brother who was just 2 years older than me. The problem with him was he suffered from ‘middle child syndrome.’ Well at least to this day that is my diagnosis for him. He wanted me to be around and yet he didn’t all in one breath! First grade was the tough for me because I had attachment issues with my mother whom I didn’t want to leave when morning came. The maid would come and wake us up then we would try to have that extra 5 minute lie in. It was here that T would come to my bed and pinch me to wake up. That of course would lead to a full blown fist fight (well that’s what it would be equivalent to in a grown up scenario).

Eventually he would give me the finishing blow that would leave me crying and running to my parents’ bedroom and waking up everyone in the house. For a long time (correction—to this day) no one believed me that he started it, I was labeled a cry baby.


Aside from all our physical altercations I still wanted to be his friend, sadistic I know! Soon after school we would go on adventure trails around the farm with the other kids that lived on the farm. I remember one day we were by the dam and T told me to stop following him. I didn’t understand why he would say that when we had been playing together all day long. He knew full well that I was terrified of walking to the dam all by myself because it wasn’t very close to the house and I always felt there was something lurking in the tall grass. So he told me that if I wanted to continue with the crew I had to kiss Roger*. I weighed out my options and kissing Roger was way better than being left next in the middle of nowhere. So I guess you can say I had my first kiss when I was 6 years old.


The lesson here is that middle children have issues man, like really.