It’s one of my earliest memories. I don’t know how old I was. Four? Five?
We were at a lake. A relative had a weekly rental at this place and my parents took all 6 of us kids to visit. Piled us into the family truckster. Me and my twin brother in the back-back, sitting knee to knee with the spare tires. My older brother and 3 older sisters somehow jammed into the middle seat. My mom the navigator, and the one who broke up all the fights. My Dad driving while singing along to the radio. It was chaos in there, until my Dad, who was terrified of heights, had to pass over any large bridge. My Mom would shush us completely as my Dad white-knuckled the steering wheel all the way across. Once safe, the noise would start anew, and my Dad would turn the radio back on and start singing again.