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?