I literally can’t even begin to express my disgust and hatred towards being the oldest child. A day doesn’t go by where I don’t wonder what the four - year -old version of myself did to deserve this horrible role. I’m in full out bitch - rant mode right now.
1. When I did things wrong, they were 100% my fault, and I was the only person to blame. When my sibling does something wrong, its once again my fault because “they learned it from me.” Does someone want to explain to me why they don’t need to take responsibility for their own actions as well?
2. When the 150 lb 13 year old BOY hurts me, its acceptable because he’s “younger”, and he’s even praised for being able to fight well. But when I do it/ fight back hell breaks loose because I have a couple years on the little asshole.
3. I AM LITERALLY THE EXPERIMENT FOR EVERYTHING. “Well we learned from you” has to be the worst sentence in the world.
4. Besides, “its hard being a younger sibling, they have to live up to the expectations set by you”. Bitch, I had to make those high expectations myself.
5. Who the hell gets an iPhone in grade 4? Yes, parents, its completely reasonable to give your daughter her first phone before the brat. YOU DON’T NEED TO TREAT THEM EQUALLY.
6. Why do my friends have to be nice to him? Why do we need to include him? Does he really need to go on a shopping trip with a bunch of grade twelve girls? I’m pretty sure I would be crying, saying that he was “excluding me” from hanging around a bunch of 13 year old boys.
7. He’s 13: thats not baby fat anymore & its not cute. Put the kid on proactive and show him diet food. He’s not your little angel anymore. And, while you’re at him, give him some deoderant. Being your baby boy doesn’t protect him from B.O.
7. I’m decently sure he’s a functioning human being and capable of mundane tasks. To name a few: setting the table, making his own bed, putting bread in the toaster, cutting the milk bag…
8. Can’t we just be friends like the kids in the movie? I can’t trust you not to tell mom what I got her for christmas, nevermind a legit secret.
at the end of the day, they’re still mommy’s little baby, and I could be the president of the united states, and he could still be living in their basement, sponging off their credit card & pension to play on the computer all day, and he would still be god’s gift to the world in their eyes.