This is me when I was about four. Yes I had a mushroom hair cut. I think it was cute, in a hilarious kind of way. It's weird to think that I look exactly the same, but now I have hippie long hair. Anyway, when I was about two and a half my family moved to Texas. About a year and a half later, we moved back to Utah. And this is where the story begins. Business wasn't any better in Texas than in Utah, so we had to bring the equipment back. My dad had to bring the dump truck back. It was an old dump truck, like a beat up tonka truck left in the sand pile for a long time. I loved to ride with my dad, so I got to go with him. Now, there was no passenger seat in this particular truck, just floor space. So I got my Strawberry Shortcake blanket all spread out on the floor along with my Rainbow Brite doll. Well, because it was an old beat up dump truck, we could only go so fast. Like 45-50 mph fast. I remember stopping for gas. My dad let me get a bag of Cheetos and some Hawaiian Punch, then we were back on our way. On the second day of slow driving, we got a flat tire. Dad pulled off to the side of the road to fix it. I got out and sat on the side of the road and just cried my little eyes out.
"Daddy! I can't take it any more! I don't want to drive anymore!"
It just broke his heart, I mean look at that little face! Anyway, while he was fixing the flat and I was crying, a pack of wild dogs came and started chasing me. I was terrified beyond belief. My dad rescued me but I was scarred for the rest of my life. So the fear that experience created has turned to dislike over the years. And it has spread to all other animals. It's called generalization. I learned about it in college.