I've told stories of my early childhood travels before and this is yet another one that occurred in 1955, when I was four. It keeps popping into my mind so much lately that I thought I would share. I don't remember what state we were in, but it was either New Mexico or Arizona. It's about a bad little boy that was too smart for his own good. Yes. I am talking about me.
We parked our Vagabond in the trailer park as usual. This park had a Laundromat which all in the park could use. This was desert country and there was an Indian reservation close by. The people from the reservation would come and use the Laundromat as well. The tribe owned a bus to get about the area. Mom and Dad had gone to town and left me home to play, I know, today the police would arrest them for that. But you see everyone in trailer parks looked out for one another back then.
I saw their bus pull in ntothe Laundromat and off jumped six kids along with a big lady. I was excited about playing with them, so away I went to greet them. We were having all kinds of fun, and then we got thirsty. Water was free but the pop machine in Laundromat was more enticing than water. You might have guessed we had no money. Wanting to keep my new found friends happy, I said that I had money. Where is it, they asked