The first two pictures you see are me in utero. I say this because my mother was about 2 months pregnant in February of 1983 and was supposed to be 8 months pregnant in July. Since I decided to pop out early, the incubator you see around me in picture #2 acts as my mother's uterus. I stayed in there for a week before I was allowed to go home (my parents taking me out into the real world for the first time in picture #3.) But being in an incubator has it's uses. It adds a lame excuse to my reprotoire; "can I help it if I failed that test? The incubator must have fried that section of my brain!" Ah... if only that got parents off your back.
One thing that was never fun was being
short small. My parents ridiculed me as though they were my siblings, not They Who Bore Me. Their favorite "measuring stick" for me was this doll their parents got them for their wedding (picture #4.) I am now happy to say that that doll resides in my room, and every now and then, I stop to loom over her, showing my dominance. :)
But back then, I had no defense for my parents' constant tortures (pictures #5 and 6.) If only social services could see this; I'd have a sound case for child abuse! (A note to all you out there with no sense of wits- I was kidding. Just making sure you don't cart my folks off to jail; I'm leaving them for college anyway!