Little_Kathy

In a  previous post, I made mention of getting my head stuck in a wrought iron fence when I was a kid about the age you see me pictured here. All of my memories of it come from the memories of family members who repeatedly bring up the story at holiday and other gatherings. Always when there are enough people around to hear the story and laugh at me.

Yeah, well. I’m having serious doubts that this event ever took place. Why? Because my own mother can’t remember the details. And neither can my one of my sisters who’s a little older than me and likely was there when it supposedly happened.

I think this has all been made-up so that, as the last born child in our family, there will be always something to ridicule me about ’til the day I die. Stop picking on me already!

The story goes that I was playing around on this porch. I got the idea to shove my head through the fence (the fence at the top, not on the steps) and then couldn’t pull it back out.

It’s been said that the fire department had to come rescue me and that they had to cut out one of the rods to make enough room to release me. Indeed, one of the rods was missing for years. But something tells me that it fell out or was taken out for some other reason and that this whole story was concocted to validate my lifelong suspicion that I have a gigantic freak head.

So what is it, my dear siblings? Did I really get my head stuck in a fence, or has this been a 40 year joke at my expense? Was there some truth to it, but over the years it gathered steam? I call bullsh*t on the fire department showing up.

I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell the story again at Thanksgiving. I can withhold pie, you know.

p.s. If that picture doesn’t prove I’ve been a cranky pants my whole life, nothing does.

Stumble it!