Someone Call for an Exorcist?

Very few people can remember childhood scenes from when they were age 2 or even 3. I can. I remember my older brother Mike and I playing in our front yard under the big tree and on the small swing set. Arthur was an older neighborhood kid, about 10, who would come into our yard and briefly taunt us before running away. One day, I had enough of Arthur. I lifted a hammer which our father had left near the swing, and with one quick swoop toward Arthur, who was kneeling in the dirt, cracked his temple. I don't remember what happened right after that, but I do know that Arthur never again entered our yard. And I know that a few years later, when Mike and I would walk the streets to the movie theater or to church, we occasionally would walk past Arthur. He wouldn't recognize us, but we would recognize him by his reddish hair and by his crossed eyes which, I'm told, resulted from my hammer.

Also, when I was 2 or 3, only my mother and I were home a particular day. She needed to borrow a food item or something from Miss Melie, our neighbor, so she made the decision that I could be left by myself in our house for a few minutes, and off she went. It was a winter day, so a small, floor-mounted, gas-burning, open-flame heater was in our living room. Several feet away from it was a old, small chair. I became curious: would the chair burn if placed into the gas heater? I managed to drag the chair, then tilt it back into the fire. Yes, it did burn---so much so that the leaping flame and the stinking smoke sent me crying into the yard, just in time, thank goodness, to catch the attention of Mom and Miss Melie who then drenched the chair with a bucket of water. That's the last time my mother left me unattended.

You young mothers out there, listen to me! Do not---DO NOT---ever give your young children a hammer or a gas heater to play with. A swing or a small chair is okay.

-Old Doc