When I was very young, my Mother used to tie me to a Tree in the backyard. That way, I could play outside and she didn’t have to worry about where I’d wander off to. She could get her housework done and I could experience the great outdoors—a win-win, as it were. Today, of course, if you search the Internet for the phrase “child tied to tree,” you’ll see all sorts of news stories that end with some version of the phrase “mother arrested for child abuse.” But that was not my story—the way my mother tells it, I loved that rope and harness. The rope allowed me to run around in a fifteen-foot circumference like a dog. I usually stayed taut at the end of the line, but sometimes I would run around and around, eventually coiling myself tightly against the trunk of the tree. I’m lucky there were no large birds of prey in Massachusetts; with the rope strung tightly around my plump flesh I probably looked delicious. After some time, a kind passerby would happen upon me stuck to the tree and help me unwind.

Basically, if all my older siblings were off at school, I was … Continue reading..