Buddy and Holly

Raconteur:

One who excels in telling stories and anecdotes.

Looking at these two, I am completely in awe. I cannot, do not, try not to understand how I turned out the way I did. Or maybe this photo explains it all.

These are some of the things I believed while growing up:

1. That if I left my gum on my bedpost overnight, it would find its way into my mouth overnight and start chewing me, instead of me chewing it, and it would multiply in size simply by moving my jaws up and down. That it would soon take over my brain and I would be helpless to its power.

2. That there was a little man inside my belly who sat by a well, all for the purpose of monitoring a bucket. Once the bucket was full, the little man would tickle my tummy and let me know that it was time to empty the bucket. That's how I knew it was time to go potty. The little man would let me know.

3. My Pa was a famous singer/songwriter. He wrote, composed and sang such songs as "Bimbo Bim. Jungle Jim. Jumped in a lake and could not swim. So he drooooowwwwned." And "Peanut butter tastes so good. It tastes just like I thought it would. Jam and honey I like too. But most of all I like you."

4. That even though there were 6 of us kids, I never had to wonder if my parents loved me. Each one of us children were (are) very unique, so how could they not love each one of us in our own way?

It's not hard to see that I have inherited some of my parents' traits. I, too, have become a raconteur of sorts. My children still think there is a man out there made of honey who haunts the Honeyman National Forest. Also, it's nice to see that my children made out with some of their grandparents in them.