trailer living
I can never really make fun of trailer parks or the people that live in them. At one point in our lives, we had to live with Mom's brother, Tony, in his trailer in Virginia. I was only 4 or 5, I think, and while we stayed there, there were several incidents that will always stick with me:
-cutting my hair in the bathroom and hiding behind the toilet while my uncle looked for me (he thought someone had cut the cat's hair);
-seeing a dog walking through the park with no skin on one side of his body -- I guess he'd been shot -- I could see his insides;
-trying to catch a football, falling down, landing on my ass in a wasp's nest and crying because my dad had to console me, and I REALLY wanted my mom;
-eating an apple that a neighbor gave me;
-David falling off the back porch on his tricycle...or maybe it was Becky...
I guess nothing of real importance happened now that I review all of that. Ah, well.
-cutting my hair in the bathroom and hiding behind the toilet while my uncle looked for me (he thought someone had cut the cat's hair);
-seeing a dog walking through the park with no skin on one side of his body -- I guess he'd been shot -- I could see his insides;
-trying to catch a football, falling down, landing on my ass in a wasp's nest and crying because my dad had to console me, and I REALLY wanted my mom;
-eating an apple that a neighbor gave me;
-David falling off the back porch on his tricycle...or maybe it was Becky...
I guess nothing of real importance happened now that I review all of that. Ah, well.