1986: I'm born three weeks early on my grandma's birthday while she is visiting my three-month old cousin in Massachusetts. She joked and told my mom to either wait until she came home or have me on her birthday. She got what she asked for.
1987: While staying with my grandparents, I break open some glass liquor bottles and have to get stitches on my left hand, which I still have a scar from. My parents are at a concert but come home for this. From then on my grandpa locks the cabinet.
1989: I have my third and final eye surgery to tighten a muscle in my left eye. My mom buys me a troll doll dressed as a nurse. I throw up all over the car and my yellow sweater on the way home that night.
1990: My brother and I get chicken pox from a boy our mom is babysitting. We take baking soda baths and are constantly swatted at and told to stop scratching. On the bright side we both get through it before we reach school age.
1991: I start kindergarten just fine, but half way through the year, I cry one morning when my dad goes to leave me. He goes anyway. Also that year I am late one morning to class because I am so caught up in feeding the springy riding horse sand with a sifter that I miss the bell.
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