WE LOOK READY
We look ready to brawl, set to defend our turf, but I assure you it’s just the sun in our eyes. Me with my first neighborhood friends at the age of three! A little boy named Chandler, whom I called ”Chowder” because I understood clam soup, but not the letter “L”, should rightly be in this pic as well. There’s Karen on the short right and Ann on the tall left. Anne’s dad helped me learn to ride a two-wheeler bike and promptly directed me into the cul de sac bushes where small cuts and a bruise ensued. The phrase “get back on the horse” was then introduced to me despite not one horse to be found. My family dined at Karen’s home from time to time, where my dad eagerly awaited his favorite noodle soup. Too bad 3-year-olds don’t make a habit of collecting last names.