Being raised an only child was lonely at times. I didn’t have siblings to bond with or to create memories with during my formative years. I envied Mama being able to recount tales of things she and my uncle, Bobby, did as children. Even the times Bobby swindled her out of her own money or decapitated her baby dolls made me wish for a brother or sister. To retaliate for her dolls, Mama threw Bobby’s football in the fireplace. See what I missed out on being an only? Sure, I had a house full of grown-ups that loved me and played with me, but it wasn’t the same. For one, Mama and Pop cheat at card games, and Granny was a sore loser, even at Go Fish. Bobby didn’t like playing most games, so his idea of a bonding experience was taking me to Dairy Queen or feeding our myriad of animals together. But I wanted someone my age to share things with.