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. At the age of fourteen, I had discovered boys, and Frampton was the first object of my affection. Frampton was a teenage boy with long wavy red hair that resembled an Irish setter’s coat and chocolate brown eyes. He was trying to grow a mustache. However, the hairs had only grown on the sides of his mouth and not under his nose. My father, Honest Joe, had decreed that I was not allowed to date boys until I turned fifteen. Nobody went against ...