The Last Shall be First

Anyone of you who grew up in a large or at least relatively large family knew that Mom, when she was upset, would sometimes go through the entire litany of children's names until she came to the one she was really mad at, right? Well, except for Ron's family. Then it was always ''Ron! Get in here!" right away. Ron's mom didn't have to think about that one.

Anyway, it did have the effect of making every one of my siblings listen sharply. If you weren't the last one  named you were in the clear. "Bill! Patrick! Phil! Ed! Get in here right now!" meant that Ed was in for it but everyone else was in the clear.

It was the dreaded "Bill! Phil! Patrick! Marty!" which meant, dang it. I was the one who set her off.

Not that I ever actually experienced that of course. But man, I did feel sorry for every one of my brothers from time to time.

A minor family squabble

I come from a relatively large family; I'm the second oldest of seven. My sister Susan arrived a little more than a year after me. Consequently, she was just a grade behind me all through school.
One day a teacher asked me, as Susan and I stood in the hall near his door, "Cosgriff, just how many of you are there?" I answered that I had four brothers and two sisters.
"No you don't," Susan corrected me. "You have five brothers and one sister."
I was caught off guard for a moment before her confusion dawned on me. "Nooo, YOU have five brothers and one sister. I have four brothers and two sisters," I explained, surely in that denegrating voice elder siblings speak with towards their younger ones caught in obvious mistakes.
But I'm right, aren't I?