BOYISH PRANKS
My mother drove a 1949 Studebaker which she kept in a neighbor’s garage. One Saturday she told a playmate and me that she was going to town. We, in a moment of genius, devised a plan. We went to the Studebaker, crawled in and tied the two front doors together with a rope, door handle to door handle. Then we rolled the front window down and crawled out. We rolled the window up as tight as we could with our small arms and lay in wait. One thing led to another and we gave up our vigil. Coincidently, mom also gave up her plan to go to the store. All was quiet until we went to school Monday morning and Mom rushed off to work. I wasn’t doing any sitting the rest of that week.
.
.