I think it’s actually pretty amazing how Kathy’s six-year-old daughter — feeling a wee bit neglected now that there’s a baby brother on the scene — has managed to capture the love/hate essence of the “I’m no longer an only child” crisis in words, however adorably misspelled. (As the oldest of four kids myself, my mother will never let me forget that my method of expressing those feelings — temper tantrums — was considerably less cute.)

related: Sibling rivalry, the rift that keeps on giving

extra credit: “Does Birth Order Matter?” [nytimes.com]

If I had to choose the one thing I hate most about Facebook, I think it would have to be how it’s normalized the narcissistic idea that the day you were born (and increasingly the entire week/month leading up to it) is somehow an annual event of earth-shattering importance…and (part two), how it has turned into a venue for people who share that idea to host their own pity parties, like so:

Of course, some of those people prefer the prematurely pissy approach — this message, for example, was apparently posted at 10:50 the day before her birthday:

But on Facebook, the “proactively setting the bar low” approach (as opposed to proactively setting the bar high) might yield better results…that is, if your friends still pity you enough to put with your juvenile bullshit.

related: “I received 25 bday wishes out of 473 Facebook friends.”

So, Jen in Ontario, Canada just moved into a new shared living arrangement…with a 50-something lady. “I thought having an older person as a roommate would more peaceful,” she explains. “Turns out I was wrong.” Communication skills, it seems, aren’t one of those things that necessarily improve with age.

Within a week of moving in, Jen says, there were “helpful instructions” taped up all around the house. After that, the notes just kept coming, accusing Jen of everything from filling the dishwasher with soy sauce to sabotaging the tea kettle — always book-ended by a “Pls” and “Thank you,” of course. Because that’s how mature adults act.

related: The Post-it Wars

Though your attention might have drifted ever so briefly, I’d like to reassure you that the ongoing debate over which restrooms (men’s or women’s) are the foulest continues to rage on — and yes, it’s as nauseating as ever!

I literally received these two submissions — the first from an EMT school in Massachusetts, the second from a non-profit in D.C. — within minutes of each other. Mere coincidence? Or a cosmic clue from the Internet gods that it was time for a showdown between “Angulated Rectum Guy” and “The Queen of Diahrriah?” Okay, that was a gimme. The real question: who would you rather share a loo with?

Exhibit A) as witnessed by Josh in Fall River, Mass.

Exhibit B) From an anonymous bystander in College Park, Maryland

related: And you thought college students were foul…

“My next-door neighbor has some problems with controlling her rage,” says Guy in Austin. So when the apartment manager wouldn’t force her upstairs neighbors to take down their bird feeder — on the grounds that the resulting bird crap from above constituted plant harassment — she wasn’t about to let the issue drop quietly.

Meanwhile, Lucas brings us this report of a uncontrollable botanophile on the loose at his office in Toronto.