Remember when crayons came in hard clear-plastic boxes? Well I had a pet mouse I found outside, but he died rather quickly. I put him in one of them boxes and buried him in the windowsill outside my house.
My sisters and I had a Bobby Sherman Fun Club (BSFC) one summer. Our main function was to babysit neighborhood kids in our yard. Ok, I was six, my oldest sister 10, but heck my sis was babysitting me as both my parents worked all day. It was amazing how much business we got at ten cents an hour.
My middle sister (age 8) and her friend were a bit more on the rambunctious side then my very maternal eldest sib. They insisted that I had to be initiated into the club. The initiation took place in a fort made in our basement. It was pretty dumb really, after being blinded I was instructed to do various things with the recently candle-torched lid of a can, in order that I'd get ash on my face...whoopee.
I got to help my middle sis with the next initiation on one of my friends. I mentioned my recently buried mouse to them so we went and dug up. Again, with victim blinded we had her open up the crayon box and take out the dead mouse and hold and pet it. I don't recall that it even smelled. It didn't bother me in the least then, but now I think it was slightly perverse.
After spending more than one evening completing the banner for the BSFC club we decided to change it to the David Cassidy Club. I voted against the move.
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Alma wrote:
I lost my post