I was the type of kid who...

+ My brother, who is 3 years younger than me, and I grew up having my Grandma and Grandpa Spiker (Mom's parents) as our babysitters. They lived in the the nicest little neighborhood full of other kids our age. We literally ran that neighborhood like no one's business. Harper Drive had about 15 houses on it, with a turn around at the other end which also ran to the big pond at the end of the road. Grandma always stocked the freezer in the garage with bomb pops, orange push ups and any kind of strawberry snack you could think of and she graciously let us and all our friends have free roam of that little fridge. Grandpa always made sure the sandbox was full and he maintained the little red tree house down by woods and the crick that ran through their property. The neighbor kids always wanted to play at our house and I was the oldest so I was the one who called the shots and decided what we were doing.

+ I was also the oldest grandchild on both sides of the family. My Uncles spoiled me like crazy as did my parents and pretty much anyone who had anything to do with me. I was the kind of kid who joined my Uncles on their dates in high school and no one dared even question it.

+ I was a die hard Britney Spears fan. To the point that I tried changing the spelling of my name on my school papers in the fourth grade and acting like nothing even happened. I also took the little picture book out of the front of Britney's Baby One More Time and tried to copy cat her little white tee that she was wearing. It just so happened that it was Easter morning and our house was full of people visiting. I stood in the bathroom looking at myself in the mirror with a black permanent marker wearing my brother's Hane's white tshirt and I drew a 'b/s' initials to copy what she was wearing in her picture. I walked proudly down the hall, my Dad asked me what I wrote on my shirt and I demanded that I didn't do this that it just came like this. We still laugh to this day because the initials were wrote backwards due to the mirrored image and it was very obvious that my 13 year old self wrote on that shirt. I am pretty sure my Dad saved the tshirt and it's in the filing cabinet at their house.

+ I was the kind of kid who was traumatized by my mischievous and ornery little brother. When I was maybe 6 years old and he would have been 3 we were on a family vacation at Myrtle Beach. My Dad's uncle had died in Kansas so mid week he flew to Kansas to attend the funeral leaving my Mom with both of us at the hotel. Mom gave us strict orders to not open the door for anyone and just play in the room while she jumped in the shower real quick. Jonathan was playing with this really heavy metal fire truck on our balcony (8th floor overlooking the swimming pool) and threw the truck right off the balcony and on to the pool deck below where the pool boy was cleaning the pool. Mom spazzed when she got out of the shower and took us down to retrieve the truck and apologize. On the same trip he got his fingers stuck in the elevator shaft and we had to hold the elevator open and get ice to remove his hands. To this day I am still worried about the trouble he is going to get us into wherever we go.