I have two younger sisters; Joy is six years younger than me and Jo Ann is 15 years younger. One time when Jo Ann was around two years old, our parents left Joy and me in charge of the baby. I honestly don’t remember what much about that day, but I do remember what happened when our parents came home.
“Where is Jodie?” (Jodie was her nickname when she was a baby.)
“Oh, she was right here a minute ago.”
We began a search of the house and heard a slight whimper coming from one of the bedrooms. We opened the door to find Jo Ann. While her older brother and sister were “watching” her, Jo Ann had gone to the refrigerator, gotten a stick of butter, retired to the bed room to eat it, and got so much of it on her hands and the door knob that she couldn’t open the door.
Needless to say, this is not an event of which I am proud.