The earliest I remember is back when I was about 3 or 4. I had an orange pedal tractor that I loved to ride. This would have been in the 1953/54 timeframe. During those few years my Father was transferred to a store in Huntington, WA.
We lived on a very long block and my Mother used to let me go out and ride my orange pedal tractor without adult supervision. I remember her telling me 2 things. 1. Don’t talk to strangers and 2. Don’t cross the street. My Mother would then help me on with my hat and coat and put a sign around my neck that I had to wear whenever I was outside alone.
No this sign did not have my name on it. Nor did it contain information as to my address or phone number. The sign simply read “Please Do No Feed This Child”. My Mother knew that once outside I knew where every cookie jar in the neighborhood was. I was a very charming little bugger and could manage my way into anyone’s house and be at one with their cookie jar within minuets.
Obviously I would have to break rule number 1 in order to do this. So what made my Mother think that a 3 or 4 year old was going to not cross the street?
As a matter of fact I remember one time I crossed several streets. When I realized how far away from my house I had rode I suddenly had an intense urge to pee. I got on my little orange tractor and pedaled like mad only to pee in my pants. Of course I couldn’t stand to be wet and the weather was pretty nice. So I just took off ALL my clothes got back on my tractor and stated peddling home.
I was about half way home when I was pulled over by the police. I was scared, thought I had been speeding on my tractor or something. I was relieved to know that I wasn’t speeding. However it is not acceptable, even for a 4 year old to ride down the street in his birthday suit.
When my Mother showed up at the police station to pick me up I was sitting there wearing a policeman’s hat, my sign that said “Please Do No Feed This Child” and nothing else except for a bottle of soda pop in one hand and a giant cookie in the other.