Now I know why I'm a mess…

A new British study from the University of The Perplexed suggests that only children have a better chance at happiness and as the last of five children I believe it. The number one reason they cite is that only children endure less bulling.

No kidding.

My older brother wanted me dead from the start. My aunt told me that when my mom went to the hospital to have me, my brother screamed so much she finally stuck a dirty dishrag in his mouth to shut him up. I think he made up his mind early on that if I remained viable, he was going to make it his mission to disable my psyche.

My cousin, who recognized my brother's diabolical nature, once commented that if there was ever a war he hoped that my brother was on our side. Little did he know that I was the enemy.

It is hard for me to remember all of his tortures, as my mind, in all it's mercy as allowed me to forget, but several incidents are legendary. My children try to console me by telling me that if he really wanted to kill me, he probably would have done it. BUT… they don't know.

They were not there when he…

Dug several large holes in the backyard, big enough to conceal a small body. He would then cover them with leaves and call me to come from the front yard.

When my father found a wasp nest in the rockery, he covered it with a coffee can and told us to stay away from it. When I was near the strategically placed can, my brother pulled off the can. The next thing I remember was my mom pulling wasps out of my hair and then plastering me with soda.

Never trust anyone who says "just jump and I will catch you". My older sister, clearly in concert with my brother, taught me to jump from high places and then she would catch me. One day they say I jumped and no one was there. It's a lie. I was pushed.

And then there were the tricks.

Our Grandpa Allen would always have change in his pocket to give to his grand kids. My brother would trade me all his nickels for dimes "because nickels are bigger."

He would take me out on Halloween and leave me on someone's porch and take off with his friends. The list goes on and on.

Only children. Happier?

Yeah, but what will they have to write about?