Well it seems as though I missed throw back Thursday again. On Fridays I really enjoy looking at the old photos that my friends share on Facebook. I have a scanner but I haven’t quite gotten the knack of messing with Photoshop. I don’t think I even have a Photoshop.
One of my very first memories in life was at our little house where we lived when I was born. I don’t recall how old I was but I was potty trained and in panties. My mom told me one day as I was heading out to play, that if I went to the outhouse, not to let Bobby Jones go with me. I wondered why but didn’t ask. I was an obedient child.
Later in life I thought about Bobby Jones for some reason and this memory came back to me. I told my sister after my mother was dead and she told me that Mother had told her the same thing but she wasn’t as obedient as I was.
When I was about ten or eleven, I was already maturing. My first bra was a 32 A. How fair was that to the world’s worst tomboy?
My brother had sort of a friend who lived on the corner of our block. One day I was outside playing when this friend of my brother’s asked me to come to his house as he had something for my brother. I went with him innocently. We went into the house and back to a bedroom.
He told me if I would show him mine, he would show me his. I turned and ran out of that house as fast as I possibly could. I didn’t tell anyone about this until adulthood. I confessed it to my brother who told me he wasn’t surprised.
These are traumatic childhood experiences that I remember. I sometimes wonder if I have suppressed any others.
My sister, me, Mother, Russ and Daddy. Love Daddy's hair in this photo. As you can see, I had none.
I was late in posting for TBT because our stupid computer system keeps shutting down. What's with that?