Writer's Block: Do you remember?

Snickerdoodle cookies and crying because I coudn't have more. My parents lived on the lower floor of a house owned by Joe and Joann something-or-other, and my mom made several batches of snickerdoodles. We had some and she sent a batch upstairs. I was crying because I thought we weren't getting all our cookies or I wanted another one. Something like that.

I must have been in the 2-4 range, my youngest bro wasn't born until we moved to the next house. I remember thinking my best friend Diane D. was "lucky--she's five".

I gave my doll that my mom made me by hand, to Diane. This was because I was convinced it was bad because my older brother kept saying it was bad and hung it like a Nazi.

I think I've been living out that scenario forever.