the youngest child - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing

My mother was task master, mission maker and decider of everyone's general direction in life. She organized the chores, the academia and the fun like any good army drill sergeant. My father did nothing but work; work at his job, work at fixing up the house and work at getting enough sleep so that he didn't doze off on the way to the factory the next day. Once in a while he would smile or laugh - and when he did the world brightened for those precious moments - then he would sink back down into his whirl of fretting. My older brother was the champion, the go-getter, the model child that mom had so carefully crafted. I was the extra, the buddy, the second and last. Always I got less support, less consideration, but still compared to the yard stick of my brother. Always second best, always found lacking in some vital ingredient for success. I took to following Dad around the house, learning what tools to use for what, how to fix a leak, make a wall frame, insert a new window...