When I was little, I think my folks hauled me around to most social occasions. Later they hired a babysitter. Evidently the pickings were slim on our dead-end road in the woods, and after one earnest soul kept warning me that I wouldn't be allowed to sleep with Sweet Baby Jesus if I didn't behave, they decided I was just as well off on my own. Which I was. I was happy to read, root through the cupboards for hidden candy, watch the TV which was otherwise mostly off limits in my parents' bedroom, dance around the living room to phonograph music, and sometimes stay up late enough to hear KING-FM go off the air at midnight. I guess I didn't show much mischief initiative as a kid.
Murray would leave me reminder notes, often in verse. This one was when I was 12 or so.
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