When I was born, one of my two sisters was married and the other almost. My brother was older than both of them. So I might as well have been an only child. My father indulged me shamelessly and my mother considered me to be an inconvenience at a time when she thought she was getting her life back! I suppose she loved me in her own way but I spent more time at my sisters' houses than I did at my own, in the company of my nephews and nieces. I was never short of friends but always thought it would be nice to have a brother around my own age. Our only grandson is an only child and will remain so as DD made a decision not to have any more children. I respect her choice, but I feel for him. He has lots of friends but it's not the same thing as growing up with siblings. I've no idea whether it matters to him.
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