As the eldest of five children, I came to adore all of my siblings, but that doesn't mean it was always easy. This is from one of my earliest memories. I am not certain if these feelings are from the third or fourth baby.
Both of my little brothers are precious to me now.
I might have been three, but I think I was four
This new infant I did not adore
It had the adults in a tizzy
Their fuss and bother made me dizzy
This one was not ordinary
This one made me quite contrary
The nasty little newborn beast
Had deprived me of my birthday feast
Making matters even worse
It was a he child, such a curse
Were not three daughters quite enough
Were we not sweet, were we not tough?
Into the bedroom I stealthily crept
Peaking at the wee one as it slept
What made this mewling child unique?
He had no fur, no wings, no beak
I looked outside the window and opened it a bit
Wondering if I threw him out, could I get away with it?
If out the dormer he I dumped,
Could I say that he had jumped?
Happily we two were saved
An aunt came in and hugs she gave
To me, not him and so it is
My little brother got to live