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The Worst
Birth Order Failed Me, But I’m Still A Prodigy
Why, oh why are there beets?
From the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences in 2015 comes this declaration: The largest, most methodologically sophisticated studies in existence show little or no functional relation between birth order and personality.
Oh really??
What do they know, with their science and methods?
I am sure I’ve been affected by my birth order. I am the world’s worst middle child, and that fact alone has ruined my life. In my family, it’s not easy to fail at middle childhood. Come to think of it, maybe I’m the world’s best worst middle child.
It all started when it became evident that I have no talent for calling the odds. I’m one of four siblings. Mathematically, that makes the second and third born of our crew the middle children which means there’s a fifty percent chance at being middle, or two out of four chances. Even so, I couldn’t manage a decent middle-child draw because I was born in the first slot.
At birth, in that first breath of non-uterine air, I was already a renowned middle-child failure. At five seconds old I’d indisputably achieved “the oldest” designation, which you could argue was quite prodigious of me, but still — loser! Maybe I’m…
