Res Ipsa Loquitur

When we first moved here from the wilderness of Deer, Arkansas we, including my parents, were slightly feral, and shocking even to rural New Mexicans. It was 1961 and we had never really been around any of the things that suddenly surrounded us. Traffic was strange, neighbors were strange, indoor plumbing and electricity were strange, and although we sort of knew what televisions were, we had never gotten to watch one. I remember my 4 year old brother running onto the highway to try and catch a Volkswagon - which can appear really small from 10' away, and when we first got a television, all 5 of us tried to take it apart and get the little people out. Anyway, our mom was trying to get us moved into a house and couldn't drive so she had to walk everywhere. One day she had to go someplace and we were too much for her to handle in public so she tied our hands and feet with ropes and then tied all of us to a large, heavy bed. After she left, we couldn't untie ourselves, but we could be very loud, and we could take the bed apart. By the time she got back we were dragging a heavy bed frame through the neighborhood, screaming as loud as we could. I'm sure the people were watching, but no one came out of the houses, and didn't for most of the time we lived in that neighborhood.

I know what you mean. I still remember vividly the first flush toilet I ever saw....which, much to my mother's embarrassment, I absolutely refused to use. I was about 2 at the time, and she made the mistake of showing me how it flushed before getting me to use it. I remember thinking that hole looked plenty big enough for a little girl to fit through with enough suction, and I wasn't about to sit on it. She finally had to paddle my bottom to get me to use it, as I remember.

"Slightly feral", that's a great description. I certainly was, too.