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I was a handful as a child.  So much so that my school system decided I may need special education.  I was put through weeks of rigorous testing (come to find out, I was brilliant-which I already knew) as well as intense questioning by a therapist.  I could tell she was young and new to her field and well.....I figured she could use a dose of me.  I convinced her with vivid detail complete with real tears, that my father had died in the Vietnam war (I was born in 1971, do the math) and that I had a younger brother named Cory who was born with a rare disease.  I told her that he lived at Children's Hospital Boston and that my mother refused to take me to see him.  At the end of the testing there was a meeting of all the "professionals", my mother and myself.  The therapist actually stood and wagged her finger at my mother.  She told my mother that she should be more gentle with me due to the tragic loss of my father (who is still alive and borderline well in Colorado) and that my mother should be ashamed for not visiting Cory more.  Between my mother's insistence that all of that was a lie and my inability to contain my giggling, the poor therapist excused herself.  I found out later that she actually left her position at the school after that.  One of many fantastic webs I spun as a "child".

Created: Jun 05, 2017


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