When I was young, I went to my Great Aunt Glenda's house every weekday, because both of my parents worked. My mother was a baker at Shaw's and my father was mainly a lobsterman, but he had some other side ventures like snow plowing and building houses. I didn't spend much time in my own home, but that was fine with me because I loved being at Aunt Glenda's (as much as I hated getting up at 5:30 every morning). There were other kids at Aunt Glenda's house, most of them I was related to in some way. I was the youngest, though, and I was Aunt Glenda's favorite.

Before I was in elementary school, I played outside pretty much all day with the other young kids, but my childhood really began with grade school, and when it came around, I enjoyed it quite a bit. I was not free of classic childhood obstacles, though.

There was this kid who lived down the street from Aunt Glenda's house who was mean to everyone all the time. I remember when I was maybe six or seven, he hit my sister when we were waiting for the school bus. I stood up for my sister and got whacked too. I stood up for her because I hated that little bastard more than anyone else, mostly because he told me he was going to run me over with his four-wheeler. After that day, my father threatened him with bodily harm and the kid left me alone for the most part after that.

One of the oldest memories I had from Aunt Glenda's is when her dog bit one of the kids. It wasn't a dinky little Chihuahua, either. Haila was her name, and I think she was a Siberian Husky. She bit this kid pretty hard for trying to take her bone away, and as much as that was a pretty stupid idea, the dog was a little too vicious to be around the kids anymore. They had to put Haila down, and she was buried in a marked grave out front.

I always remember my Uncle Berge sitting on the couch, watching television and drinking his trademark strawberry Kool-Aid. My Aunt Glenda was a smoker at that time, and I remember her sitting on the front porch, smoking Marlboro Reds and listening to old-timey country music. I loved country music at the time, because it wasn't terrible back then, at least not to me. I still enjoy some of the artists she introduced me to, like Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings.

Most of the long summer days were spent outside by the tire swing and on some rickety swing set in the dooryard. We didn't really watch television except when we were waiting for the dew to dry off the grass on those warm summer days. I definitely got my fair share of cartoons, though. Spongebob was a big deal with me, but also some fairly kid-friendly anime shows like Yu-Ghi-Oh and Pokémon. Outside, we played cops and robbers and hide-and-seek. Occasionally, my Aunt Glenda would bring me into this huge garage with an apartment above it and give me a Captain Eli's Root Beer, just as long as I didn't tell the other kids about it. I kept my promise, and the soda kept rolling in. Like I said, I was Aunt Glenda's favorite.

I went to Harpswell Islands School, where I met most of the good friends I still keep to this day. I remember in kindergarten we had to walk with our hands behind our backs so we didn't hit each other or pull artwork off the walls. In first grade, I really started to discover my sense of humor and creativity. From first grade to now, I've always been the one to crack a few jokes. My first-grade teacher, Ms. Chasse, was always one of my favorites. We had a lot of fun in her class, and she would give us these really awesome "homework" assignments, like going home and making a snow fort or bringing in a drawing of some sovereign nation's flag. I chose Japan because it's just a big red dot on a white piece of paper. Slacking was my style even then.

One of the mainstays of an elementary school graduation is a chorus-style singing of some song: Ours was We Go Together from Grease. I really hated singing, especially this song, but for a moment, I was given a gift from some divine presence. Just as we were about to go up and sing, the power went out. Therefore, there was no backing track for the song, and we didn't have to sing. We did our graduation with no power, but when it came back on, we still had to sing the stupid song.

My fifth-grade teacher, Mr. Wironen, who was formerly an orthopedic surgeon, had something nice to say about everyone at graduation, and he told me that my sense of humor and intelligence were good traits to have. For our lesson on puberty, he sent all the girls out of the room and told us guys all about puberty in a really cool way. He really had us going when he was talking about how steroids stunt growth in teenagers. I remember him saying, "If you use steroids, you're going to end up with a tiny little dick." I'm not paraphrasing here, he was just that cool.

Overall, it's nice to have a childhood of which you can be proud. Many kids don't have that luxury. Some kids are abused, some kids have to grow up way too fast because of things they can't control. My childhood was old school in the way that I wasn't really coddled by my parents and I had to be tough and be a real human being. My Aunt Glenda never fussed over me even though I was her favorite, but she did protect me from the older kids sometimes. I still held my own, though. My parents never hovered over me. I'm very grateful that they didn't, because I'd seen kids in middle school that were coddled, and they were all very weird to me. Plenty of the spoiled kids in middle school ended up being nightmares for their teachers. Not to say I didn't have my disagreements with my teachers, but I was usually just goofing off in class.

If I could offer any advice to a parent who wanted their child to have a good development, I would say that you should let your kid make their own friends and let them scrape up their knees. When they get picked on in school, teach your kid how to fight back. It'll make a better person out of them. Trust me.