It's an odd object to remember from childhood, but this one was special.
I lived in an urban area in a four story walk up. We had no grassy back yard with a pool.
Ours, was a concret courtyard and our pool was throwing on a bathing suit on a rainy day, running downstairs to splash in the street gutter where the rain water flowed into the sewer.
I sailed many a paper & popsicle stick boat to its doom that summer.
My cousin once found a wrench on the sidewalk, he was only 5, but he took that wrench and turned on the fire hydrant with it.
We, all the kids on the block, had a glorious 10 minutes of full power water before the police came and turned it off.

It was soon after the wrench incident, that I found the crowbar. I was 4, that gawky age, I had just lost my baby front teeth.
What could I do with this crowbar that would bring fun to me and my friends on the block.

While pondering what to do...I took that crowbar and put it in my mouth. Why you say? I have no clue why I did it. When some people think, they might chew on a pencil, maybe, I some how connected that...to putting a crowbar in my mouth.

I think putting a crowbar in your mouth would not be so unusal for a 4 year old and no one would have even noticed, except, it fit perfectly in the spot where I lost my front teeth, and I couldn't get it out.
I panicked.
And thats when my friends all noticed me.
I was running around in a circle, flapping my arms like bird wings, and screaming. Well, the best scream you can do in a situation like that.

Getting no help from my friends who just stood there completely amused and amazed, I started to run towards the door to humiliate myself infront of my family.

Just as I touched the door knob, the crowbar fell out of my mouth.
What a relief!
That was the last time I ever touched a crowbar and when I see one, I have an odd pain in my mouth and my mind drifts back..