Testimony of a Saved Singleton, Part 2
Continued from Part 1:
I am what many people call an only child. I was raised without any biological, adopted, or step siblings-it was all me. Recently I read that the new politically correct term for a phenomenon like me is “Singleton.” I’m not sure I particularly like this new moniker though, seeing as I’ve never heard of anyone who was offended by being called an only child-a phrase that wraps up perfectly the state of being the single offspring in a family. Moreover, the word “Singleton” sounds a bit too close to “simpleton” for my liking.
The popular theory about us Singletons is that since we were raised as the nucleus of our family microbe, we turn out to be pretty crappy adults. Apparently self-centeredness, bad people skills, and an inability to problem solve under pressure are all tell-tale traits of a grown-up Singleton. Yes, we’re just a few steps away from fearing daylight and having no reflection. Yet the fact remains that some of us turn out alright anyway. I don’t mean to blow my own horn, but as I set sail on the good ship Adulthood I consider myself a pretty well balanced gal. How did I escape my gloomy fate? Of course a lot of it had to do with my parents and their general humbleness and good nature, but I think I can attribute just about as much of my development to Daisy.
From the moment Little D came to our house, I saw her as my sister. I’m pretty sure that there are lots of kindergarten-aged kids who get this same idea, but for my parents and me the sentiment has stuck. No other family hamster, hermit crab, or fish (of which we had dozens) ever rose above the rank of “pet” in our eyes but Daisy. To this day, she has her own stocking hung on the mantle at Christmas and when I call my parents and ask about “my sister,” they tell me about the D without need for a moment’s consideration. Hence, if it can be said that our siblings make us who we are, then I must give a nod to Daisy for making me the piece of work I am today.
Part 3 tomorrow...
I am what many people call an only child. I was raised without any biological, adopted, or step siblings-it was all me. Recently I read that the new politically correct term for a phenomenon like me is “Singleton.” I’m not sure I particularly like this new moniker though, seeing as I’ve never heard of anyone who was offended by being called an only child-a phrase that wraps up perfectly the state of being the single offspring in a family. Moreover, the word “Singleton” sounds a bit too close to “simpleton” for my liking.
The popular theory about us Singletons is that since we were raised as the nucleus of our family microbe, we turn out to be pretty crappy adults. Apparently self-centeredness, bad people skills, and an inability to problem solve under pressure are all tell-tale traits of a grown-up Singleton. Yes, we’re just a few steps away from fearing daylight and having no reflection. Yet the fact remains that some of us turn out alright anyway. I don’t mean to blow my own horn, but as I set sail on the good ship Adulthood I consider myself a pretty well balanced gal. How did I escape my gloomy fate? Of course a lot of it had to do with my parents and their general humbleness and good nature, but I think I can attribute just about as much of my development to Daisy.
From the moment Little D came to our house, I saw her as my sister. I’m pretty sure that there are lots of kindergarten-aged kids who get this same idea, but for my parents and me the sentiment has stuck. No other family hamster, hermit crab, or fish (of which we had dozens) ever rose above the rank of “pet” in our eyes but Daisy. To this day, she has her own stocking hung on the mantle at Christmas and when I call my parents and ask about “my sister,” they tell me about the D without need for a moment’s consideration. Hence, if it can be said that our siblings make us who we are, then I must give a nod to Daisy for making me the piece of work I am today.
Part 3 tomorrow...