You did what?

I am ashamed to write about this. It seems to be something that is particular about me—or at least no one else ever talks about doing such a thing. At first thought, it seems to be a symptom of an unsatisfied, unloved, maladjusted childhood. To describe my childhood, I thought, would be the portrayal of a fairy tale existence—huge family, lots of toys, parents who care—all hallmarks of a fine life.