“You are an only child, aren’t you?” I asked, matter of factly.
“Where did that come from? But, well… yes. How did you know?” asked a completely baffled junior who I had spoken to for barely ten minutes the very first time.
“I know one when I see one. You have all the symptoms of an only child or as I would call it, the only child syndrome,” I replied.
“Like what?” he was curious.
“For one, everything about you spells taken care of. You don’t have to bother about many things and so a little thing also seems like a challenge you need to think through clearly before attempting. It’s obvious from the way you speak that you come from a very protective environment. Nineteen year old guys are never like that except for this reason. Also, you mentioned one of your folks too, so no surprise,” I explained.
“Okay… But isn’t that a little too judgemental? That could be the case with anybody,” he tried salvaging his pride.
“No, only the only child,” I smiled.
“How can you be so sure about this syndrome theory of yours?” he pressed on.
“Because I am one too,” I said with my smile spreading wide.
A Struggling Author 