The Middle Child

He was my middle child. He was never any trouble growing up. He always did the right thing. I guess he was easy to ignore because of that. I was so busy with the other two. That’s why we didn’t pay much attention when he started getting awards and notice for his inventions. We certainly never expected him to win a Nobel Prize.

Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “the middle child.”

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Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

4 thoughts on “The Middle Child”

  1. The middle child is always different. While my youngest sister and I look like Daddy, our middle sister resembles our maternal grandfather. And where my youngest sister and I are still single women, living in the neighborhood we grew up in, in our thirties, our middle sister has married, had two children, and moved out to the sanitized suburbs. My youngest sister and I are still Brooklyn Italian, but our middle sister has become the stereotypical “white suburban mom”, with her minivan and her Tory Burch bag. She was always different but in the eight years since she married, she’s become someone we no longer recognize.

  2. To find a middle child in our family it’s necessary to go to my parents’ generation. Mom’s family was a mixed one. By that I mean my grandfather became a young widower with two children who then married my grandmother. They had five children together so the middle child was also the fourth one in line, my Aunt Jane. She had a very colorful, independent and dominant personality with a good heart. Their mother died when the youngest were teens. She made sure they had a home and continued their education.

    Dad’s family also had a middle child, a girl between two boys. Coming from a traditional European farming culture, Aunt Ella became homemaker and surrogate parent alongside her Mother. Like Aunt Jane, she never gave up this modus operandi and practiced it with her nieces and sole nephew as well as with her own children. I think much of these two really strong female middle children in this month dedicated to gender equality.

  3. My sister , the middle child had the household thrust upon her tiny shoulders, one ironically dazzling June morning when we lost our grandmother. Not only did she do justice to the household and continue her studies in the same breath, she also had the grit and gristle not to be out -manoeuvred by scheming aunts.
    I guess the middle child is a different breed altogether. They are mini-adults . I also know a certain middle child who was made to carry sacks of potatoes from market place , while the elder sought meaning in books , and the younger had not yet graduated out of his tricycle.
    My elder sister was the studious one , hence untouchable . I was youngest, the baby and the pampered one . That left her , the middle one , or mejo, as they are called in bengali. If you hear family histories across a cross section of bengali families, greater feats of achievement have been performed by the “mejdas” and “mejdis” of this universe, than any one else.
    Needless to say, she was fearless and feared powerhouse of discipline and order.
    She still is.

  4. The middle child(s) is most dependable when it comes to the dirty work. He/she always seems more able to succeed in the day-to-day cores. As if he/she had to experience life more deeply. Getting to know people, solving problems, being through a lot more seem to be a talent they acquire at a young age. They are not dad’s best friend or mom’s apple pie. It is really sad to take that long to know what they are really capable of.

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