I grew up as a single child. I do have siblings, but they are from my father's first marriage, and as a child, I never knew them.

Because I was an only child, and also an unpopular kid both at school and at church, I entertained myself. I would also wonder about various things and because verbal explanations from my parents were never sufficient, I would try out various experiments for myself.

When I was six, I was using a stapler. As I was using it, I thought, "I wonder what the paper feels like when it's stapled," and promptly stapled my finger to see what it felt like. Blood gushed forth, I screamed and ran to mum. Mum was not amused. Dad, however, laughed so much he cried. Mum fixed me up with a bandaid, etc, and glared at dad who found the whole thing hilarious.

"Why did you do that?" she asked me.
"Because I was curious," I replied.
Dad laughed harder.

Subsequently, that was my father's favourite story to tell ALL his friends for weeks. I was mortified.

When I was seven, I saw a documentary about the hang man's noose. Dad liked doco's, so as I would usually sit in the lounge and read while he watched TV, that would be how we would often pass a night. At any rate, I was curious about hanging, and what it would feel like.

The next night, when my parents were watching tv, I went outside, made a noose, and promptly hung myself from the clothes line. While choking, I discovered that this was not a pleasant sensation and managed somehow to get myself down. Thankfully my parents never knew of that little incident, and my short venture into auto asphixiation.

Lesson: Research before experimentation is a GOOD thing. Especially when experimentation leads to bodily harm.

Questions? Comments? Wanna stroke my ego? Then e-mail me.