It all started on May 19,1984 in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I was born premature and had to stay in the hospital for a couple of months after birth due to being born 3 months early. The doctors say it was a miracle that I survived and that miracle was the first of many that would happen in my life.

My rebellious side actually started when I was a newborn in the hospital. The nurses would come into change my diaper and I would wait to urinate until they unhooked my diaper. “WhaaWhaaa, leave my diaper alone nurse!” The nurses would even switch up the time they came into change me in hopes of missing a yellow rainbow. It never failed, no mater what they did I ensured that they felt the warmth of my love every single time.

I was the first-born child and as with most first borns its like an experiment for the parents. They have this brand new bundle of joy that speaks another language. To a new parent, the language barrier can cause quite a head ache. I made sure that somebody heard me every-time I was hungry, dirty, happy, sleepy or grumpy.

One early morning around 3am, my mother hears giggling and laughing. Usually she is woken up by loud healthy lungs, but this time was different. She gets up and goes to the crib and what she saw next would put anyone in shock. There I was, a happy 6 month old naked baby boy playing in my poop and making murals on the wall! I recently told my mom that she should have saved those murals because when I become rich and famous they could be worth a lot of money.

© Tim Foster – 2015 “A Warriors Struggle”

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