Our Half House

We moved from GI Ville – into a tiny little “half” house. You know, where the address is like 112 ½ or 112 B. It was a house behind another house.

My only recollection about the house itself came courtesy of the Three Stooges. We had an adult babysitter that night. She brought her own toddler. We were watching the Three Stooges on TV and her toddler became inspired by the crazy antics. I had gotten a huge hook and ladder Tonka Truck that year. Remember when they were made out of steel? The little diaper bottom dropped that truck right on my head! Ow!

Oh, there WAS the time my mother bought a whole bunch of concrete patio tiles. She spent a lot of time leveling the ground, placing the tiles just right, getting it filled in with sand, and viola! We had a patio! Well, until the two juvenile delinquents from the main house used OUR croquette set to smash EVERY tile into little pieces.

Here comes the WEIRD part. When my mother protested to the main house, their mother “sentenced” the two juvenile delinquents to haircuts! She knew my mother cut our hair. So she made her two boys get their hair cut BY my mother. They each paid her like $5 out of their allowance for the hair cut. It was more than a hair cut was going for, but MUCH less than the cost of the tiles themselves. So not only did my mother loose her beautiful patio, but she had to cut the hair of the two punks that DID it, in order to get a paltry symbolic payment.

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