You’re Not Done Yet!
Ah, the start of the first chapter of my autobiographic bullshit life, dig in, make some pop corn, this should be touching.
The time was 1:13 am; my mother had just gone through labour with my sister. A few minutes later the doctor came back into the room and told her, she wasn’t done delivering yet, much to her surprise. At 1:17 am I came into the world partially ass first. I do wonder now as I write this how many breeched birth people have told the world that it can kiss their ass. Zero; well count me in as numero uno! I weighed in at a whopping 3 pounds 1 ounce. The ounce I spec was just to spite the scale. Nevertheless there I was, and there I went into a cold metal pan… then after being wrapped in a nice blanket, held in my parents hands, I could fit completely in both my fathers hands, I was stuck in baby nuker.
I see it almost as the same as microwave dinner directions. If not completely cooked the first time toss back in and nuke it some more, and so I was in a round about way. I think I stayed in the incubator for two straight weeks. After that I came home to either Wharton or El Campo, Texas… Not that I would know I can’t remember that far back and its not like it really mattered. I was a shit factory with a twin sister of the same calibre, though eight months later I was walking… at which point I was then a walking shit factory. The best educated professionals can make of it, the walking bit, was because I was extremely smart for my age, I chalk it up to being impatient and needing to get somewhere and get their fast and walking seemed a more logical step, no pun intended, than crawling. Though I would let it pass without saying, it also allowed me a more advanced way of taking toys I wanted to play with from my sister, whom was still crawling. She got the looks, I got the brains.
I think we stayed in the house for a year or so. Moved, moved again and then, moved to Northeast Texas. The Piney Forest region of Texas, oh joy!
Liked the bunny, the class was rubbish!
A few years passed, and eventually my parents had it in mind to enroll me into pre-school. Fantastic idea Peabody! So they find this nice little pre-school somewhere and enroll my sister and me, I lasted count them with me… One day, okay don’t count them, count it. Nevertheless I lasted a whole day at pre-school. They had a fluffy bunny there I am told I enjoyed petting, other than that I didn’t like it, I much rather play and create stuff than learn. How ironic is it that to learn one must in a way create.
For the remainder of the year I spend my days at my father’s mother’s house. We called her Nanny. Interestingly enough she was never our nanny per se, the reason she got that name was from my first cousin Robert, when he was younger he could not say Granny, and so said Nanny and it stuck. Now my Nanny lived in a very little town called Rocky Branch, basically say, take a left at Bum Fuck Egypt then chuck a Uie and you will find it. A little ways from her house was a little pond that was covered with alga and had a large log sticking out of it. I was terrified of that pond; I thought alligators lived in it. Might possibly come to the conclusion because when my father was a kid he did in fact have a baby alligator for a pet… it accidentally got smothered by my Nanny because it crawled into the basket of fresh wash. Poor little thing, never saw it coming, probably didn’t care either way.
It was also here that I developed my fear of snakes. And this is how it came about, there was a steep embankment beside the house, and as any little boy knows, when you have to wiz, you do it where you are, so I peed up the embankment, well somehow it uncovered a hole and something long came out that hole. I still to this day believe it was a snake, but it could have been something as simple as a centipede. I very much thought the thing was trying to bite my wee bits and so developed a defence mechanism which people refer to as ophidiophobia. Probably for the better. Next chapter will be kindergarten and my developing authority issues! I should mention though, that after I was born my parents had to go out and buy all the shit they bought my sister, just for a boy… fucking chromosomes!