Stuck in the Middle Again.

"I was born a poor black child." is a line from a very funny movie. I, however, was born as the middle son in a family of three children. I have no idea why, but whenever I mention that I am a middle child people always nod knowingly and say something like, "Oh, that explains a lot." I think that is funny, but I have never taken the time to research exactly why people feel the need to say that. Depending on whom I am talking to, I may reply with a range of answers. My response will be anything from, "Oh? Middle children are awesome? And that explains why I am such a wonderful guy? Cool!" or (twitch)"Why do you..(twitch) say that?"(drool)

Whatever they are diagnosing, I am happy that my birth order is a topic of discussion and people are comfortable enough to discuss my personality quirks in public settings. Oh well, I guess it's OK. You know me, always the people pleaser...wait a minute...hey!

Actually, that is not what I wanted to write about tonight. I have already done a blog about my son, who is awesome, and his battle royale with the toy handcuffs. Now I want to do one sparked by my equally wonderful daughter. She is not a middle child (unless you count our cat as the first born) and the rest of this shouldn't be about birth order at all. Who really knows though, because I never have a plan for these ramblings. I sit down, put my hands on the keyboard, and try to hang on as the babbling commences. Tonight I have a paper cut on my finger so I may not be in good form. It is actually so painful that I am purposefully avoiding words that use this finger from the home row. Hah! Gotcha. I'm am not that smart.
Admit it though...you looked back to see if there were any "d"s or "s"s. Ha! I crack myself up!

OK, that sort of brings me to the topic. My daughter, Kristiana, has offered her opinion about her "100 year old" dad doing "A BLOooooooG!" This is almost always followed by, "He even has a Twitter account!" It has been explained to me, numerous times, that I am not cool in many colorful ways. My daughter, the teenager (you know what I mean) is not holding back! She is letting me know that I am an embarrassment to her, our family, and (if we were Scottish) the entire clan, dating back centuries! She complains out loud, but I think she is secretly proud that the old man is capable of doing something that could actually be cool if I happened to be someone a few decades younger.

I, on the other hand, am quite comfortable here in the middle again. The way I see it, I am far too old for anyone to say, "Wow, he has made millions and he started doing this when he was only .... years old" and I, hopefully, am far too young for someone to say, "(sentence about the millions) And he didn't start until he was..." Sort of between the 10 year old doctor and Grandma Moses! I am thinking that the middle is great. I have enough life experience to have some really cool stories, I have a brain that sees things differently than most other people, and I am having a blast writing. I hope you are enjoying it...whoever you are.

So there you have it. I made it. I have successfully completed another blog entry, even with the horrible pain from the papercut on my finger...my MIDDLE finger!