When I was a toddler I was the great escape artist and a little daredevil. You could also say I was probably a shit head and I know I was a grade A spoiled brat, but now is not the time to go into that. This would cause endless headaches for my parents and (occasionally) my brothers since they had to keep a close eye on me else I would break free and do my own thing. My Mom likes to tell me that I was out of the crib way earlier then any of the brothers, sometime before I hit a year old. Her reasoning? Not because I was a child that would stay put when put down for a nap and there was a blanket of trust or anything. Oh, no.

I liked to jump out of my crib and run towards the door mach-10.

At first, I imagine that it was amusing to behold. Me, practically a baby, pole-vaulting god knows how out of my crib and running towards the door and often beating whoever put me down for a nap or bed out the door and down the hall. I imagine after a few rounds of this it got old and I’m surprised I didn’t get strapped down to the bed and/or kicked in the head more times then my brothers would confess to (they are lucky for my head trauma when I was about six since my memories before then are fairly fuzzy). My Mom said that while she would have preferred me in the crib longer, she was afraid in my stunt double-esk moves I’d one day break my neck or cause serious, but well deserved, injury to myself.

I wish I could say that my bad habits only extended to jumping out of my crib and running towards the door. No, of course not. As you know, I am the youngest of six children and I adored my brothers and would follow them around like a shadow. Of course to their older, wiser, cooler selves, having their toddler little sister follow them whining and being a general pain in the ass was so uncool. Plus, shouldn’t I be jumping out of cribs and almost breaking my neck?

At first, it worked to simply distract me and run out the door before I noticed and leave me screaming and crying in betrayal and next time justice would be mine and I would get to hang out with my brothers! Unfortunately for my brothers (and parents) we used to have windows near the ground. They were fairly simple to open and push out, even for a toddler.

I think you know where I am going with this.

Usually, I wouldn’t get too far before it was noticed that shit, Annie is missing. One time however they didn’t notice. Oh no, they did not notice until our neighbor from down the street came knocking at the door with me in their arms (I can only imagine I was thoroughly pissed at being foiled) since was this your daughter? I found her walking down the street headed to god only knows where. Thanks to me, baby alarms were installed on all the windows and doors by my great-uncle to inform them when I was making a break for it, so they would be able to chase me down and I imagine tackle and body check me into submission.

I wish I could say I wasn’t probably a major contributor to my parents grey hair but truth be told? I think at least 40% of the grey hair is due to me.

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