Bumbly-Wumbly

Growing up, my family always had pets, whether they were cats, of which we had seven that I can remember, dogs, of which we had two, or fish, all of which I apparently killed. But there was a period of years, between our first dog and our second, during which my father was quite insistent that we not have a dog. This didn't sit well with my sister, because having a dog was basically the only thing that she wanted out of childhood.

Here's to You, Mrs. Robinson

Parts of this story had to be filled in by my mother, because it all happened so long ago that I don't remember all the details, but it would seem that I've always had a thing for older women, starting with my mother's friend Karen. She was also the first blonde that I fell in love with, but I don't think that's important to the story.

Youthful Delusions

Looking back on my childhood, I would describe myself, in those years, as socially-retarded. Not only was I pale and unathletic, which I still am, but I had glasses the size binoculars and a mane of long red hair that made me look somewhat akin to Pippy Longstocking. This was not a good look for any prepubescent boy, but at the time I thought that I was an amazing catch. My delusion was to the point where I would stop to check my reflection in the mirror and think "damn, I look good!"

The Caregiver: Giver of Care

My first job, outside of the two days I spent as a busboy, was at a comic book store, where most desirable women dared not venture. The women who did happen to frequent the store were somewhat...overly affectionate, in what I assume was an attempt to counteract their undesirability.