We are family.

Lately, I've been thinking about the roles and relationships we're brought up with and continue to propagate. I have always thought that sometimes we are no more than the product of our birth order. I fully believe that a lot of the kind of person I am has a lot to do with the fact that I am the oldest child.

I'll guess at a person's birth order and have been right more than wrong. Babies of the family are easiest to tell. It's interesting because I see a common thread in many of them. They foster these relationships that reinforce that they are the babies in their families. A secondary mother, a big daddy, a parental proxy. A friend of mine, in an extreme drunken state, would pull these idiotic antics. When being admonished, he would grin this impish grin meant to be endearing, like a child who knew he was being naughty but cute and could get away with it. To me, it was a reinforcement of his birth order. He was the baby of the family.

I know this sounds like an indictment of the youngest sibling, it's not meant to be. I just have been lately surrounded by those who are the babies of their families and am noticing it.