There's something to be said about only children. We've all known at least one only child, and while only children are all different and unique, there's one common defining quality they all share: something's just a little bit off. Maybe they're awkward at sleepovers; maybe they're assh*les in crowds; maybe they don't listen well. Whatever it is, all only children share the same innate weirdness that can only come with growing up without a sibling to torture.
They've never felt the sting of sibling rivalry, or the embarrassment of hand-me-downs. They've never shared a king-sized bed on family trips, or been forced to watch a movie that wasn't their pick. They've never had to share their toys or split their pizzas. They never built forts with their siblings, or had to watch someone else open presents on his or her birthday. They've never had someone to share the backseat during car rides or complain about their parents with. They've never felt second-best or the sting of sharing the spotlight.
Many of us blessed with siblings used to envy those who were spoiled with the attention and praise that only comes with being an only child, but with age and wisdom, we have come to pity them. How can someone grow up without a sibling and know how to function socially? How can an only child not be an egotistical narcissist?
I mean, how can someone enter adulthood having never wrestled his or her brother or sister to the ground? How can an only child know anything about sharing a room, or a bed, or a life with another? The experiences shared with a sibling are ones that define you as a person. Only children are missing on those crucial experiences that only come from sibling rivalry and competition. To many of us, it's almost morally corrupt only to have one child.
Although we feel for only children, and understand they had no say in their doomed fate, we still need to look out for ourselves and warn you of all the reasons you really shouldn't trust only children.
They know how to throw, but never learned to catch.
They can talk, but they can't listen.
They think sisterhood is just the name of a movie with America Ferrera.
They've never shared a Kit-Kat.
They think Costco is a vacation spot.
They had to sit with another family at Hibachi.
They think "hand-me-down" is the beginning of a command.
They never sat at a kids table.
They grew up as the ultimate "third wheel."
They don't understand delayed gratification.
They don't know how to argue.
They never had excuses as to why their clothes were ugly.
They never experienced a pillow fight.
They had no idea that swings are supposed to move.
They think dogs are good listeners.
If something's missing, it's always them.
They've never had to split their chicken nuggets.
They've never felt the sting of getting the worse Happy Meal toy.
They know how to hide, but never seek.
They don't actually know what value packs are.
They never felt the pain of matching outfits.
They can't share a lap.
They never pulled the plug on Nintendo.
They've never played split screen.
They had the least accommodating forts.
They never got crushes on their siblings' friends.
They never had a reputation in high school because of their last name.
They had to go on the spinning teacups alone… or with their parents.
They never got to play on the see-saw.