This slightly embarrassing story was inspired by a childhood memory that popped into my head as I read Mary Lawson's A Town Called Solace.
Visiting the Neighbours
I was maybe four or five when my parents sold off part of their acreage and we got closer neighbours. As it turned out very nice neighbours. I'd cross the driveway to visit them almost every day. I especially enjoyed watching Mr. "Neighbour" putter. He built things with wood--a bird with wings that flapped when I pulled a string and a lumberjack that sawed wood when the wind blew the propeller. It was like being in Santa's workshop.
One day, he greeted me with, "Well, hello, there, my little girlfriend." He was always saying funny things, but I didn't laugh.
When I got home, I wore worry on my baby face.
Mom asked, "What's wrong?"
I told her that "Mr. Neighbour" had called me his little girlfriend. "I don't want to break up their marriage."
Possibly, I'd been watching too many "soap hopperas".
About the picture...
While playing at the "Neighbours", I fell asleep on the chesterfield--using their Boston Terrier Perky as my pillow, but Mrs. "Neighbour" thought I'd be more comfortable on one of their beds. The trouble was, each time she came close to try to move me, Perky growled. As if to say, don't disturb her. She's sleeping. So all Mrs. "Neighbour" could do--or was allowed to do--was snap the picture.
The minute I woke, Perky jumped down, ran outside, and peed. I'm not sure how long he had been holding it.