To the best of my recollection, I was a reasonably well-behaved child. But three incidents still linger in my memory:
- One day, I stabbed a leather ottoman over and over with a nail file, ruining it. When asked why I would do such a thing, I had no answer. I certainly felt no malice or rage during my vandalism spree; it just seemed like an interesting thing to do.
- A few months (years?) later, I used a vise to crush several of the little green plastic houses from the family Monopoly set. Again, I had no good reason for my actions.
- Around the same time, I threw a tantrum while on a family shopping trip in Thompson (or perhaps even Winnipeg. I spotted this toy in the aisle, and had an absolute fit. Mom gave in and bought it for me, clearly extremely frustrated, and I immediately felt bad.
What drove me to such lengths? I have no defence. Shamefully, I enjoyed the toy for many years after...but I eventually learned to miss the Monopoly houses.
It would have been more shameful if you had *not* enjoyed the toy.
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