Born into chaos and I liked it.

The youngest of 7 in a chaotic Brooklyn household, (we didn't call them blended families in 1964 did we (?) ) A broken home. A dysfunctional one that had all of the makings of a childhood to remember. Oh boy it was a story to tell. One of my first memories is of the day I set myself on fire with a candle. I was 4 years old and already in kindergarten. I was gearing up to play Goldilocks in the school play and couldn't wait to wear the blonde curls "wig" made with construction paper...I wanted for my mom to be at the very end of our railroad apartment and I snuck out a birthday candle and match and poof there I was with my clothes on fire and my mom horrified at seeing me on fire as well....