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But even at twelve, I knew I couldn’t cave in as quickly as I wanted; at least, not without looking like an idiot. “Yeah, I guess,” I said in my best faux-sullen voice. The experience opened my eyes quite a bit, and set me on the road to a monumental series of events, but in the summer of 1975 those events were still in my future.Despite my original reluctance, I really liked the camp.I sulked, in the self-centered way only a twelve-year-old can, and my parents wisely let me stew about things for a few days. She obviously couldn’t fathom why I wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to go to such a fun place. A few days later, my mom brought the subject up again, when we were alone in the kitchen.I guess she knew she’d have a better chance if Erin weren’t around to pester me.
I was embarrassed enough at the changes my body was undergoing; I didn’t want the added embarrassment of everyone else knowing, too.And after I got over my first day’s sunburn (having to wear a t-shirt in the lake so I didn’t get burned even worse is my idea of a fun time), I enjoyed our time at the camp.“Aunt Susan,” as it turned out, was about my parents’ age, and had two sons who were a few years older than me.We understand why you are blocking ads, but just know it compromises your site experience (features may break or not appear entirely) and prevents us from investing in the Future of Porn. And because I wrote it as a serial, this volume doesn’t end like a normal book. My mother and father had always been very open raising my sister, Erin, and me.