Then, one morning, I was in the living room watching TV. Mom had just gone into the kitchen to start cooking me breakfast after asking me what I wanted to eat. I was sitting on the floor in my onesie PJs with my back to the kitchen. I started picking my nose, thinking I was safe to do so.
Then I heard a firm: “No, Eddie – stop that!” Mom was standing behind me with her hands on her hips. She walked over to me and picked me up. I was around six or seven and no longer was used to getting picked up or carried, so I grabbed her shoulders to secure myself. Firmly, she instructed me: “Put your arms down.” I knew I was in big trouble.