Fat cheeks and a Plaid Dress

I hung upside down with Ernest standing next to me. I was about 5. Sean wasn't here and life was good. My existence as a young kid was interesting. It, being the prologue to short story after short story, were continued reminders that its all just experiences rolled up in what sometimes looks like shit... and other times looks like chocolate. My extended family was as important to my upbringing as the ones who got me here.

It was a good 18 years, although an emotional wreck, but eh, what has changed in the last 7. I still cry if I'm caught up in my own fantasies, I get raging angry if someone crosses me the wrong way, I find the simplest pleasures remarkable and exciting, and I still look at women like they have grown a second head. Only difference is as a kid, I took it too seriously. Now, I know that none of it matters. Childhood for me, is that place I'd like to run back to. I'd give anything to be on my Ernest's shoulders just once more or Pamela be the team mom for OPAA. It's like one day, "they" made all your choices and then, without real warning, Pam and Ernie said, "the hell with you little girl, fuck off". I kid. The fact is, is that my mom and dad became consultants in my life about 7 years ago, after that place where I affectionately called Pamela, Santa and Ernest, the Tooth Fairy.