Excellent A Parent's nightmare with a venturesome tot. Confessions of a 4-year-old Escape Artis by RaymondJohn No, I'm not related to James Frey. All this actually happened exactly as I remember it. I remember hearing the radio when the bombing of Pear Harbor was announced. Everyone says it's impossible,.

Category:  General Non-Fiction   Posted:  August 31, 2006      Views: 314

RAYMONDJOHN  IN PRINT   ABOUT RAYMONDJOHN  Raymond John is a hopeless FanStory addict who has at times spent as many as twelve hours in a single day reading, reviewing and writing for the site. His three purposes are based on three "Es" which are Explain, Enlighten and Entertain. His greatest fear is to take himself too seriously. He may not always smile, but he always has a twinkle in his eye. Knock his socks off with a fantastic write and he'll be your best cheerleader and give you a banner award, to boot. He has written two novels and numerous short works. His first book, The Cellini Masterpiece, has sold nearly 3,000 copies and received an Honorable Mention in the 2006 IPPY awards. It is now available in a Kindle edition from Amazon.com. An audio version (ISBN 9780615268125) is now available read by the renown actor, James Cada. MP3 edition, downloadable for IPOD, is 14.95. Order at www.raymondjohnbooks.com. His second mystery, Mix and Match Murder, which was originally scheduled for release in September of 2008 is now in print and available from Amazon.com, barnesandnoble.com and North Star Press. A scholar born in the golden age of radio, Raymond always appreciates hearing a well-told story, especially one with action and believable dialogue in a historical setting. I have written and received many reviews. I have a thick skin, so if constructive criticism is forthcoming, bring it on. He has won several contests. The contest submission Mousie, Kittie and Booger was the first place winner in the contest Tales of the Weird.. Gold In Them Thar Words was the first place winner in the contest Tales of the Weird.. Lot 386 was the first place winner in the contest Tales of the Weird.. He is a top ranked author and is currently holding the #22 position. Portfolio | Become A Fan I think I must be related to Houdini somewhere back in the mists of time. Or at least that's what my mother thought. She did her best to confine me, but I always seemed to get away. Only age and other kids to play with put an end to my career. My first escape was at the age of two. I don't remember it, but my mother said I tipped over the crib and she came running to me in tears when she heard the sound. I had a nasty bump on my head. Mom said she darned near died of fright. I expect there must have been other escapes, too, but the first I remember was when I was four years old. Mom used a clothes line to keep me in place while she went up and down from the basement to take care of the wet laundry. She tied the knot to my belt in back of me, certain that the clothes line and the short times she would be gone would be enough to keep me out of mischief. I waited until she went into the house and undid my belt. I could hardly wait to head down the alley to Mrs. Olson's house and pick some flowers from her garden. Mom was beside herself when she found me. "You had me scared to death," she said. "Where did you get the flowers?" I told her and she marched me to Mrs. Olson's back door and rang the bell. Mrs. Olson was older, and very kind, and she said I was welcome to the flowers, but that I should ask first next time. The next time, Mom tied the rope to a belt loop. A good tug was all I needed. This time I came home with a wasp sting I got when I opened the Larson's garbage can. I ran home screaming. "Serves you right," she said. "See what happens when you're naughty?" Next she tried putting the playpen outside. It had doors at the bottom. All I had to do was rock it until fell over and go out one of the doors. Mom found me across the alley petting Blackie. Blackie was allegedly a guard dog and dangerous. He was licking my face. Now at wit's end, she bought a harness for me. Luckily for me, the clerk at the Woolworth store couldn't talk her into a leash, too. Back home, Mom triumphantly slipped it on me and tied the rope through the metal loop. This actually held me for a few washdays. I couldn't quite figure out how to reach the knot, and the harness was on too tightly to let me slip out of it. I asked her if she would let me play with it. Suspicious, she said no. I watched where she put it, though, and furtively climbed the shelves of the cabinet to retrieve it. I saw where the annoyance slipped over my head, and the double straps. I slipped it over my head and realized it wasn't tight. So it wouldn't strangle anyone, I figured. The straps on the harness were held rigidly in place and could move. I knew what to do. The next Monday, when she strapped me in I told her it was too tight and hurt. She didn't like that it fit a bit loose, but left feeling secure I was safe. After I wiggled my right shoulder out of my trap, the rest was, literally, child's play. Unfortunately, this time I had gone too far. I was trying to climb the apple tree at the vacant lot when a black and white police car came driving up. "Are you Johnny Anderson?"  the officer sitting next to the driver asked. "No, he lives down the block." "You look awfully young to be running around by yourself. Do you know Mrs. Anderson?" "Sure. She's one of the neighbors." "Let's go talk to her," he said. "You can go for a ride." The officer got out of the car and opened the back door. I knew the jig was up. Mom was waiting with her hands on her hips. Later, when were in the house, I got one of my rare spankings. And she never left me alone in the yard again.  Allthe fun went out of my life. Recognized Share your own writing! - Information on our membership for writers. Author Notes Do you know any rapscallions like me? Are you the parent of one. Let me know. Thanks. Ray. Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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