In the beginning of 1st grade, we lived in Kerkhoven Minnesota. My mom grew up in this town. In that case, my grandpa grew up in Kerkhoven. Needless to say, my mom’s cousins were everywhere! I’m pretty sure that I thought I was related to everyone in Kerkhoven.
Except for the Lottmans. I knew we were not related to the Lottmans.
The Lottmans were AWESOME!
Except for their dad.
Oh, how this man scared me.
I don’t know if I was the only little girl he scared, but
He. Scared. Me.
You think I am kidding?
I am not!
The man was nice.
But the man was crazy!
He would freak me out so much that even when I just saw him I would hide behind my mom. And yet inside me there was the deep desire for him to know that I was there to tease. But then, when he would notice me and be all crazy, I would grin and bury my face in my mom’s skirt and run behind her (usually still holding her skirt so that it was beautifully twisted around her legs).
Oh, the inner turmoil!
Maybe it was a good thing that we moved away when we did.
To save me.
From the crazy Steve.
Disclaimer: As I grew up, I learned to like the guy and since he was a professional photographer, I asked mom if he could take my senior pictures. And he did and I loved them.
And was he still crazy?