Early Memory
One of my very early memories is about our across the street neighbor telling me that my dad had a bone in his leg. How much younger than five I was, I don't know. He would tell me, "Your Dad has a bone in his leg," and he would say it in such a way that it sounded like something bad and I knew there was nothing bad about my dad.
I would argue with him that my dad did NOT have a bone in his leg. Then finally I asked my dad if he had a bone in his leg and to my utter surprise, he told me that yes, indeed, he did have a bone in his leg! Not only that, but I had one, too. Every one has a bone in his leg.
How Mr. Straight laughed when I learned that he was telling the truth.












What a sweet story. I can almost picture you as a wide-eyed girl of 5. :)