traffic. I loved to be chased. I
thought it was a game. The old
grannies my mom hired to look
after me while she was at work? I
would leave them in tears. My mom
would come home and they’d be
crying. “I quit. I can’t do this. Your
son is a tyrant.” It was the same
with my schoolteachers, with
Sunday school teachers. If you
weren’t engaging me, you were in
trouble. I wasn’t a shit to people. I
wasn’t whiny and spoiled. I had
good manners. I was just high-
energy and knew what I wanted to
do.
My mom used to take me to