Two things I forgot to mention...

...Ours was one of the few homes in our community with an inground pool way back in the day. Consequently, the pool became (as my father called it), an "attractive nuisance." When I was little, every kid on the block wanted to come in all summer, and would line up at the fence and make me feel guilty. As a teenager, my friends hung out there all day. When my parents sent everyone home before they turned in, SOME of my friends were not ready to leave, apparently. The security lights would stay on until midnight, and the timer would turn the lights out. Inevitably, a few minutes after "lights out", my dad would hear the splash of one or more people diving into the water. He'd flip out and race down the stairs, speaking "French , flipping on the lights and stalking out to the pool. Sometimes he'd find only wet footprints, sometimes wet footprints and shoes. Sometimes wet footprints and beer bottles. And then there was the underwear. It didn't matter how late Dad set the timer. As soon as the lights went out, no matter what time it was, he'd hear the splash and wake up the whole house. I always got blamed. I had nothing to do with it. Even though it was MY pool, I never had a chance to skinny dip. I always secretly envied the person who had the nerve to do it. And so now, all these years later, it was revealed to me that it was my dear old buddy Mohawk Chieftain. Jeez, that was over 40 years ago! Anyhow, I wanted to tell you all about it, but realized that my typing/vision skills are declining with each passing day, and I accidentally added an extra "w" to Mohawk...so it reads "Mowhawk." Since I pride myself in my good spelling, I just want to call this to your attention, so you wouldn't think I hadn't already caught my own error. Just to set the record straight. (I have since, corrected the error.)

And in keeping with my declining typing/vision skills, I have also begun to acquire memory lapses. I told you there were two things I forgot to mention. And I got so "into" the other thing about the "w" that doesn't belong, that I forgot the second thing.

Ahah! It came back in a flash as soon as I got ready to log off... "Cinnabitch": How I Got My Name. One day, not all that long ago, Mallory's friend Becca came over for breakfast. I made her French toast. When she came in the front door, she inhaled deeply (smelling the cinnamon), moaned out a long, saliva-ishy "aaaahhhhhhhhhh", shut her eyes, smiled a huge, perfect-teeth smile, and said, "Instead of 'Other Mom' (which had been her name for me since she has her own mom), I think I'll call you Cinnabitch." And the rest is history.