I'm not a liar

That's right, I'm not a liar.
I have what is called Middle Child Syndrome accompanied by an over active imagination, and this is why sometimes the way I recall something is not exactly the same as everyone elses.
So, I have not made up memories about my childhood, that is just simply the way I remember it. (I have recently found out that some of my memories from childhood aren't exactly they way things happened, however they could just be telling me that to make themselves feel better about the way I was treated and neglected) Middle Child Syndrome can also be called The Forgotten Child Syndrome.
We are often left alone to our own devises and not that we look for trouble, but often trouble found us. Also all this time being alone tended to lead to a child making up the life that the rest of the family has left them out of. Evidently I did this a lot.
As a kid having a pop was a real treat, Mom never bought pops at the grocery store. We either drank milk, water or orange juice. We also rarely ate out, actually we never ate out as kids, so there was no ordering a pop at a restaruant either. So getting to have a pop was huge in our house.
One day while playing alone outside, as usual, I began to trace out the names that were etched into the sidewalk from the previous owners, "Kim & Jason", as I was sitting there alone with nothing but my thoughts, my parents roll up on the street with everone in the truck with them. The street is about 50 feet away, and they are in a diesel pick-up and I can't hear what they are yelling at me aver the sound of the rumbling engine. They are saying something to me but I just can't hear.
I keep asking "what?" and putting my arms out and shaking my head, you know the common gesture for "I can't hear you and I don't understand what you want from me" after a few seconds or minutes of this, they left. I shrugged my shoulders and continued tracing the names...
A while later everyone appeared again. All with thier own pops. Did they get one for me? Nope.
Evidently they were yelling at me to hurry up and get in the truck, because we are all going to go to Gas n' Shop and get pops. But I didn't hear them. And they left without me and didn't even bother to pick up a pop for me.
As I explained before pops were a big, huge deal in my house. And I had to sit there and watch everyone suck down their pops while I drank my damn milk! I was in first or second grade when this happened to the best of my recollection. And apparently it never happened, I made it all up. My Mom says she would never leave her 7 or 8 year old alone at the house. But I think she is lying.
People often ask me how I can be a middle child when there are four siblings? Simple I explain, Ang is the oldest, Dork, is the only boy, then there is me, another girl, then Treebee, the baby. Hence I am the middle child.
Now this isn't to say that a middle child is a bad kid, or a trouble maker. No generally they are the opposite. They are usually attention getters, but they do it with comedy, or what they deem as comedy. They will often be the jokesters in the family, and they are often the ones that smooth things over in the family. Typically the middle child gets along with all family members and are often considered the favorite child.
Yes, the favorite child. How do I know? Because my Mother told me so and everyone else.