When you live in a large family, older brothers and sisters get stuck watching the younger ones. When I was 3, my oldest brother, Bill, took some of us to play at a park near our house. I remember not wanting to go home when he said it was time. I was sitting on a swing, and hanging tightly to the chains. Bill tried to peel my hands off the chains, but he couldn't do it. He got angry and went home with the other kids. About 2 minutes later I realized I was alone and decided to go home. The only trouble was I knew I had to go through the alley and then turn right on my block to our house, but didn't know I had to go more than one block through the alley, so I ended up on the wrong street. Our mother had immediately sent my brother back to get me, but I was gone before he got there. I wandered for blocks trying to find my house, and ended up on the busiest corner of our downtown. By this time I was crying, and a Police Officer came and got me. He took my to the Police Station, where he gave me candy and ice cream. I don't know if my mother had called the police, or if I gave them my name, but I remember later being driven to our house in a police car. My poor brother got spanked for leaving me at the park, and I got the candy an ice cream. Life is good. Heh heh heh.
No comments:
Post a Comment