I guess I'm always going to get a twinge (or more) of stress during the first quarter of every year. I mean, we lost Michael in January, John and Mom in February, and Janie and Joe in April. Not all in the same year, but let's face it, all of us remember those special dates in our lives, and mine seem to overlap.
But this quarter is coming to an end, and I'm starting to fill up with some of the funnier aspects of growing up, Family B Mullen style. I've got these "coming of age" memories surfacing. And when I say "coming of age," it is definitely not any kind of sexual awakening because I was way too scared of Mom and Dad to risk being caught, and any guys around me were way too scared of my three brothers to risk being caught trying anything.
My "coming of age" stories began around 16 years old, maybe 1978. That was when I was finally allowed to hang with the older kids and their vast array of friends. If the Mullen basement could talk...