Kansas City Missouri, February 2Ist was my start in life, opening my eyes finding my mother smile proudly at her new born. Or maybe she wasn't. I can only say what I saw as a new born when everything looked clean and unblemished, searching with my eyes to try and find what world I was coming into. All the people, including my mother, looked strange. I guess I looked the same, but not to my mother and Carol. Carol, oh, she's my sister, a little, big beautiful eyed, pig-tailed Carol, even more fragile than me, and I was the baby. Carol was the baby before me, she even kissed me, Carol did. I must ask Carol, if she kissed me, when I was born. I'm almost sure she did. For that was Carol. Sure I guess she was afraid and a little jealous; as all kids are when a new born takes the closest side of the mother, a little more attention, a little more love.Yet she still kissed me, Carol, I'm almost sure she did. I must ask my sister Carol, if she kissed me when I was born.
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