My mom and dad must have been dedicated to nurturing their children's unique gifts at whatever cost. Otherwise, why allow Santa to bring Joe a drum and me a baton.
We lived in a tiny two bedroom, one-story house. Was Joe allowed to play the drum inside? Joe has always assured me I beat him up regularly when he was too young to fight back. No one has ever verified this accusation, and this picture proves it must be false. If I regularly terrorized my brothers, surely my parents would not have given me such an effective weapon. This picture proves Joe had not a fear in the world that my baton would come in contact with his head or his drum. My frequent confessions that "I hit my brothers" must have been due to an overscrupulous conscience.
On the other hand, I regularly asked forgiveness for hitting my brothers in confession. The priest should have been more skeptical about my resolution of never doing it again. But I used my hairbrush, not my baton.