Three childhood words that eerily stuck by me
years following this and other skinned-knee phrases:

"He loves me, He loves me not",
"I double dog dare ya",
"Connie and ______(fill in the blank with the name of
whichever cute boy happened to be catching my eye that
particular week) Sitting in a tree K I S S I N G",
"Liar Liar, pants on fire",
"Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye".

Ahhhh, the memories these phrases conjur as I reflect
upon my upbringing, my past loves (all puppy forms) and
everything else that has hepled to make me WHO I really am.
Funny, how such a simple childhood phrase could echo so
resonantly, and make me feel as if I'm being kept in
check somehow.

I am 16 and at a dance. He holds me close and I want to
close my my eyes---"Mother May I?".

I am 21, a little wired at Zantigo's, a popular college night spot.
He takes me home (his)---"Mother May I?".

I am fully grown now, 38 to be exact, a mother myself and a
whole lot wiser. He asks me for my hand---"Mother May I?".