Page 65 - Firehouse Pond

How do I know all this? Today I would be considered a “repeat offender.”

To this day I avoid writing on a wall for any purpose. I will admit I had a
rather strange way of getting a little girl’s attention.

However, you need to know that little miss upper-class Missy’s blonde
ponytail sure was cute. Oh, here are some little snippets for you: Missy is her
real name, her hair turned red, she became Miss Missouri, she married me,
and we have six kids.

Wow, a little boy’s imagination sure can run wild. The only accurate part of
that paragraph is the cute ponytail.

Mark Twain Elementary School had an old seesaw and an equally old and
wobbly merry-go-round. It was a pathetic wheel, but we could get that thing

spinning so fast no one could stay on. I fell off more than once. If my
memory serves me correctly, we fell off and landed on hard red clay mud.
And, we managed to live to tell about it. Mrs. Teacher, with a big grin and

love in her heart: “Pick yourself up, dust off your patched blue jeans, get the
mud off your clod hoppers and head back to class – recess is over.”

I was never very good at marbles. I lost all my marbles (the round glass ones)

on the playground. I simply could not shoot straight. I do today, but it is not
with marbles. Now, before you start letting your imagination run wantonly,
I’m speaking of shooting straight with my words, not a weapon; although, I

did qualify as an Expert Marksman in basic training for the U.S. Army.