The Author as a Young Dog

The father kindly sent me this to remind me what a chubby little thing I used to be… and of course remained! 🙂

The Author as a Young DogThere stands I with my little French beret at a jaunty angle with my camel hair coat buttoned up against the cold. Shoes polished, socks crumpled, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth. I’m not sure I’d call me ‘cute’ but I already have the peculiarly docile look on my face that has characterised me for most of my life… to date! 🙂

If you’re wondering, the picture is dated “31st March 1951” I must have been just 3½ years old. Awww… I look *so* put upon doing *just* what my mommy told me to.. 🙂

Ahh… if only I’d known then what I know now about how little I knew, I’d have known a little more than I knew I knew… or know now!! Perhaps?

5 thoughts on “The Author as a Young Dog

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