Honestly, after going through all the notes, clippings and pictures my mom saved from 1978 I am SHOCKED that my parents didn't give me away. Seems I fever vomited my way through the entire year.
Then again, how could anyone resist someone who looks this good behind the wheel?
This was also the year mushrooms and I broke up. Apparently I loved them, until one lovely autumn afternoon when I decide to sample the ones growing in our yard. While mom ran to call poison control, my dad made me spit them out saying "no no no, bad bad". Mushrooms have triggered my gag reflex ever since.
By 1978 I was I stay at home mom. After a number of emergency calls from daycare about your difficulty breathing and bouts of respiratory illness it seemed like the best plan. Following an prolonged illness and hospital stay, you were diagnosed with severe allergies - mold, dust, cats, cigarette smoke...
You were walking so much by 10 moths you got your first pair of shoes before you first birthday.
It was in the Fall of 1978 when you bit me on my shoulder while I carried you up to bed.
I think he might be upset still.