I have a more successful sibling. There, I’ve said it. My parents continuously assure me that that’s not the case and in fact I just chose a more challenging career path, but it’s all lies. My brother is a journalist and he’s on television and the radio. I’m not jealous – he’s an odious little man (I learnt that word from him) – but I am bored of hearing about his successes from my family. The only way I can get on tv is by applying to a game show , pretending to be ‘quirky’ and then winning life changing amounts of money through exceptional box-picking skills. But I fear that may not do anything to gain respect with the family.
Don’t worry, lesser Baldwins, you’re going to be fine. Take up Dorset Feather Stitchery.
I only realised a couple of years ago that he was heading in the direction of ‘more successful’ when a friend commented that they’d read one of his articles. Worse than that, they’d enjoyed it. I now feel for all of the less successful siblings out there, struggling to make their mark in their own little field, whilst their genetic counterpart flies gracefully through life, high fiving celebrities, attending awards and signing parts of people’s anatomy that should remain under wraps at this time of year.
But I’ve found a solution! In comes in the form of hobbies. I know my brother has the sporting prowess of a baby giraffe, so I found a sport he’d never be able to do and now my family are wowed by my abilities in that field (not literally field – it’s sea based, but that’s beside the point). I also know that he is only capable of (oddly) drawing cartoons of his own face, so I now attempt to draw pictures that will put his smug self portraits to shame and my parents will display proudly for hours, if not days. So don’t worry, lesser Baldwins, you’re going to be fine. Take up Dorset Feather Stitchery. Alec’s spade hands will never be able to achieve such detail.