My last post included a photo of an organ grinder figurine (possibly flatulent) which reminded me of this:
Yes, I'm aware that my behavior might be a bit odd. I can't help it. My brain chemistry is set up to respond to the world with "ALL THE FEELINGS! ALL THE TIME!". I think the real question here is this-- was child abduction by organ grinders an issue in the old days? Was this a warning to young readers? Like an "After School Special" for our great-grandparents? Form a circle and discuss...
While on the topic of memories, I sent this text:
I don't really have anything else to add to this. It's just another example of when you're young you think nothing bad will ever happen to you. Which is how I ended up a witness to a failed coup attempt in 1991. I wrote about that incident back in June.
I didn't have any particular theme in mind when I started this post, but aging seems to have won out. So I'm going to go with it:
Someone asked me what Mumblety Peg is and I have to admit that I've never played it. I just know it's a knife throwing game with a really awesome name. In reality I should never be allowed to play a game that requires knifes to be thrown. It will end poorly for all participants.
After I had written this post, I noticed a lack of any interesting graphics. So I decided to find my copy of the book "The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew" so I could photograph it. I didn't find it but I did run across my Baby Book and I noticed a few things which made me laugh.
Check out the gifts for my fourth birthday, specifically the first line. Because four is old enough to learn that a life of housework and drudgery is what you've got to look forward to kid.
You know how even the littlest kids nowadays can play with iPhones and iPads and other equally cool toys? This is what we played with when I was little:
See-- I had no mentally stimulating toys and I turned out just fine! Probably. Actually, until I skimmed through my Baby Book I had forgotten that I had three head injuries that required trips to the ER. All before I was five years old. That may explain a lot. And why I go through life with this confused expression on my face, even now:
I'm the worst kind of asshole-- I think I'm funny.
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(Note--I only joined FB in January 2016. Come be my friend, if you want, and like my page before I get fed up with the whole thing and delete my FB account. Kidding. Maybe.)