In October 1975, when I was twelve years old, my baby sister Bonnie Blue was born. Baby girl had curly white-blond hair, a round cherub face, and bright blue eyes. Bonnie Blue looked like an adorable Gerber Baby; Drool and all.
As the big sister, it was my job to babysit Bonnie when my parents were away. I didn't mind, and by the time she turned two, I would often carry her to the park near our house. The park had many fascinations; an ancient oak tree for climbing, swings and slides to entertain little sister, and most of all, Frampton.
My father, Honest Joe, had decreed that I was not allowed to date boys until I turned fifteen. Nobody went against Honest Joe. So, in a moment of brilliance, I decided to call Frampton "Mickey Mouse" whenever my baby sister was around.
At dinner time, the conversation would often go like this; Daddy would ask Bonnie, "Did you go anywhere today?" Baby girl would reply, "the park." Dad would ask, "Did you talk to anyone?" Bonnie would say, "Mickey Mouse." Honest Joe would then say, "That's nice," and I would be able to breathe again.
Many years later, at a family gathering, I saw one of my grandchildren playing with a stuffed Mickey Mouse toy. That doll reminded me of Frampton, so I told my sister Bonnie Blue the story. She stared at me with a shocked look on her face as I told the tale. Then, she laughed and said, "That explains many things." I said, "What things?" She said, "I am so going to get you back!" I said, "Tell me, baby sister."
Bonnie then told me that she had gone through her entire life thinking that she once had an imaginary friend named Mickey Mouse. I am sorry that I confused my little sister. I still can't help smiling whenever I remember that time.
--- Sugie Bee