I was poring over the old site logs today, and came across this search phrase (and for goodness’ sake, don’t ask me if I ‘wiped it off‘… on the other hand, if you don’t get that joke, you’re probably in the wrong place):
‘what is it like to be an only child’
Apparently, there’s someone with siblings out there who’s jealous of us solo kids. Or there’s a set of worried parents getting all angsty about whether little Johnny or Jane will grow up mutated, unless they squeeze out a playmate for him or her. Or there’s a very precocious young kid with no brothers or sisters, wondering what to expect from the formative years.
Whatever. It really doesn’t matter, and I don’t care that much. Just pick one, and we’ll move on — it’s not important for the punchline.
(Hey, don’t give me that look. I’m an only child — we’re selfish bastards. Go cry to your brother or sister, ya weenie.)
Anyway, the punchline is… I am the number one, primo, expert advice-giver on the topic, if you ask Google.
(Go ahead, try it. It won’t hurt. Much.)
Now, as you can see, if you read the post in question, I actually know quite a bit about being an only child. Hell, I’ve been one for as long as I can remember — I’d better have learned something in all that time.
But to be the first place that people turn, the Oracle of wisdom, the veritable horse’s mouth? (That’s mouth, dammit! Mouth!) Well, I don’t know quite how to feel. You know, other than all alone and selfish and unsure of myself. All that ‘only child’ shit.
Still, it’s nice to be recognized as the top source for something.
Er, well… something else, anyway. *sigh*Permalink | 3 Comments