On the whole, I’m a much better kid than any of my siblings. They have been nothing but a constant source of worry and sorrow for my parents for as long as I can remember, where as I have been pretty much a complete angel all of my life. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
However, there is one ugly situation from my past I feel the need to get off my chest. So here goes ...
I have been a proud, glasses-wearing American since the fall of 1975 when I was in the fourth-grade. I got my first pair of glasses on a Saturday morning, and they were broken by Thursday afternoon. Those are the cold, hard facts that cannot be disputed. However, the events leading up to that fateful Thursday afternoon have been somewhat fuzzy to most of the civilized world. Until now.
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