I am the oldest of my siblings, so I admit to a particular sympathy for that position, but I imagine that the other slots have their own challenges. Secondo can wax rhapsodic about the problems inherent in being a middle child. On and on, as most middle children are wont to do. Just ask any middle child why it stinks to be them, and prepare yourself for a long lecture.
Terzo, while he isn't necessarily verbalizing the issue, is clearly seeking his place in the family. He often relishes his role as the baby, but he has started working on the comedy angle. He spends quite a lot of time and effort on getting a laugh, particularly out of me. (I think it will remain one of the nicest things that anyone has ever said to me: last week, Terzo admitted to my LSH that he had made up a story about something that happened at school, because "I love to hear mom laugh." Not many people have complimented me on my laugh; it tends to be one of those things of infamy, that I have spent a lifetime trying to live down.)
So this morning, as we were dealing with mundane issues such as "a return to eighth grade after two days absence" and "how much boys hate grapes in their lunchboxes", out of the clear blue sky, Terzo announces:
"By the way (I swear he said just that), my water bed is being delivered this afternoon."
I had no idea the kid knew what a water bed was. Who has a water bed these days?
When I queried him about the time of delivery, he hid his smile behind his hands, and with a twinkle in his eye, announced "2:28. It's going up in my room."
At least I get to laugh.