I just remembered another story I was told about my very young self. When my first brother was born, I was a bit under 2, and it seems I didn't really know what he was. My parents walked in to find me jumping up and down on him one time, another time about to stab him with a safety pin, and yet another trying to drag him out of his pram.
Why I was being left alone with him is more worrying.
Why I was being left alone with him is more worrying.
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Index of useful threads and discussions
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Quickstart guide to the forum