Never Wear Your Sister's Underwear

I was reading Dirk's post on neighborhoods and that made me think of my own. I didn't have a neighborhood. No neighbors to speak of. My companions were my brother when he wasn't agitating me or burying my shoes in huge sand piles and my sister. I won't say anything bad or embarrassing about my sister since she reads this blog. She has a memory that won't quit and I am sure she can embarrass the heck out of me by telling some childhood memories. Summer was freedom. Winter was being cooped up all day and the most exciting thing was school. Since I didn't have any friends in school I was pretty much on my own during the winter months. Since my parents had a resort on a lake, I had to be resourceful and cute. To be safe, my mother made me wear a life jacket from the time I got up until the time I went to bed. To earn extra money I would go crawdad hunting. I started this at a young age and by the time I turned six I was a master at catching them. I sold them for fifty cents a dozen. An extravagant price in those days and that is when cute would step in. When I was six years old I was hunting for crawdads and I must have stepped on a mossy patch because my legs went out from under me and I landed in the water. I didn't want to bother my mother so I decided I would change my own clothes. When I got to my room that I shared with my sister I couldn't find any clothes. I did the next best thing. I put on my sister's underwear and then my life jacket and went back out. My sister is older than I and her underwear was big and they kept slipping off. Undeterred I continued my hunt. I was out all day long. My mother had to take me to the doctor's office and he said "how did this child get three degree burns on her butt? And that is the tale of how I burnt my arse severely. The moral of this story is "never wear your sister's underwear."