when I broke into my neighbor's house. His name was Robbie. He was five and my best friend and lived two houses down. In those days, it was safe for kids to play and roam in the neighborhood, especially one as quiet as ours. So my mom was watching from the porch as I went over to ask Robbie if he could play. She didn't see what I saw. I saw a giant German Shepherd watching me. waiting. for. me. SMELLING. MY. FEAR. I ran up Robbie's porch to the door. I knocked. No one answered. I pounded. No one answered. I turned the knob and went in. No one was home. I sat on the couch, scared to death. It's a wonder that I didn't pee all over my ruffly little dress. I had been sitting there for about an hour when the phone rang. And rang. So of course I answered it. It was my mom. Needless to say, I was in some major trouble for a four year old. Breaking and entering. Loitering. Using someone's couch to ease my fears when the couch owner was not home! Oh my. Hot water indeed. My mom sent my older brother to bring me home, and I can remember being terrified to open the door. I was afraid the dog had managed to ring the bell and was waiting. I was trembling, soooo upset. My brother, who is 9 years older than me, convinced me to come outside and RUN!!! I ran so hard...eyes darting back and forth expecting a snarling, snapping canine to pounce at me at any moment. When we finally made it into the house, I crumpled in tears inside the closed door. Mom must've figured that I had suffered enough, because I didn't really get yelled at and I didn't get swats...however, I didn't go to Robbie's house without escort again!