From My Autobiography - 1951

 1951 : Age 4 

Dad and Mum told me about the following incidents that happened this year since I do not recall them.

    One day, after playing outside, I come in the front door, crying my eyes out.
    When asked what is wrong, I turn around to show them the back of my head.
From a small gash, blood trickles down through my hair.
    Since dad had been a medic with the British army during the war, it doesn’t take him long to clean the wound, and then fix it up with a piece of plaster.
    However, no matter how much they ask, cajole, or threaten me, I won’t divulge how I injured myself.
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    On another day, I am again playing out of the house.
    After a few hours, I don’t come home.
    Mum begins to worry, so dad goes out to look for me.
    When he can’t find me, he enlists the aid of the local bobby [police constable].
    However, neither he nor dad can locate me.
    They haven’t been home for more than a few minutes when I suddenly walk in the front door.
    Angry, but obviously relieved, my parents demand to know where I’ve been.
    I give them an odd look as if to say, “What’s the problem?” and then tell them I was “...next door sleeping with [the ten-year-old girl] who lives there”.

 

 

 

Me, Mum and my sister