I can vividly remember being attracted to the opposite sex at a very early age. I believe I was just about three at the time - maybe two. Her name was Paula, not yet two. We were caught making out in the front yard at the house of my grandparents. Everyone thought it was cute. She was a hottie wearing only an all cotton diaper held together by two well-placed pink safety pins. Oh how I loved those hot summer days of youth and the scantily clad young maidens. It was many, many years before I ever looked at another girl. Actually, girls were just out of the picture... you know… cooties, not to mention the peer pressure of not liking girls because they were... uh... "girls."
I had an older brother, Mike, and two younger sisters, Jan and Steph. Mike and I shared the same bedroom for fourteen years... FOURTEEN YEARS!!! OMG... you would think you could get some privacy, but no-o-o-o-o-o! We had our typical growing up fights. It is part of the way one learns to get along with your peers and siblings. Parents of all generations call it love, but I would always seem to forget those wise words when I was laying on the floor… on my back… while my brother was sitting on my chest and banging my head on the hard wood floor. The stress of sharing the same bedroom seemed to overwhelm us at times. We both enjoyed watching the Three Stooges and couldn't understand how they always seemed to snap right back from such beatings and shenanigans. It is amazing we survived to adulthood.
Oh... there was the time my brother and I had just waved good-bye to our grandparents. They were moving to Florida from West Virginia. I was 5 and Mike was 6. After we watched them turn onto US 50 and drive out of sight, Mike and I decided to climb over the gate on the front porch at the same time. This is where physics comes into play and two different objects of mass, a.k.a. matter, not being able to occupy the same space at the same time... well... Mike PUSHED poor little me and I fell to the ground… head first… on a rock. OK. I now have to admit that my foot just didn't make it over the top of the front porch gate and I fell on my own accord… er... head... but geez... someone else just had to be accountable for such a dramatic fall! ...four stitches in the head later and all was well.
Growing up in West Virginia gave us the chance to have all sorts of "pets": one dog, one bunny, one crow, two lizards, one mail-order alligator, hundreds of frogs, Tom and Jerry - the parakeets, Myrtle the turtle (did the paint on the back with the big red "M" really kill it?), two goldfish, a sparrow named "Fattie," numerous snakes, and countless other critters that always seemed to die or escape while in captivity. Yes, we seemed to outlive them all. I wonder what became of the crow? Kenny or Billy or Brad or Teri might know… perhaps.