Baby of the family

I was a brat. The baby of the family. I was mischievous and was pampered a lot. I would throw tantrums if my things were moved around. I ofcourse got scoldings from everyone (except Dad) in the family as well. I don't think the scoldings would affect me as much as my Dad's exasperated sighs though. And I was perfectly content in the knowledge that I was loved immensely by my family.

Even in my teens when I started seeing the shortcomings of my parents, I knew that I could talk to them about anything and they would understand. In my twenties I realized how accommodating my parents were. I could not have asked for better parents. And in my thirties I worry that they will not always be around.

I hope I can provide the same love, understanding and chaotic fun that I had to my baby.