When I was three, tried to flush a home made dress pattern down my great grandmothers toilet. When it did not go down after a few flushes, I poked my hand in there and pushed on it as much as I could. They already had straight pins in them and had been cut out. I heard them coming to find out where I was and hid. They retrieved the pattern from the john. My grandmother and great grandmother were always selecting patterns and making prissy dresses for me from the time I was three years old until around seven. I purely hated those dresses or any dress for that matter. Seems to me they would have caught on much sooner ... because of the incident in the bathroom. I remember these dresses always involved outer lace covering and it was so scratchy under my arms - not that I would have liked them anyway.
At five years old, promised my mom if she would buy me the cowboy outfit I wanted for Halloween, then I would play with the doll she insisted on buying for me. Not sure if that one was the Chatty Kathy or the one that peed on itself and needed its diapers changed. At any rate, I tore its head off ... accidentally.
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