For me it was my younger brother Frankie, in the bathtub. It had to have been in the bathroom tub of our brand spankin' new suburban house sometime in 1966, because before that our mom always bathed us separately in the kitchen sink at our tiny old apartment.
I don't have a vivid memory of that first experience, but Frankie's bald head, chubby jowls, crossed-eyes (back then, at least) and premature beer belly make me think that it was not a pretty sight.
I don't have a vivid memory of that first experience, but Frankie's bald head, chubby jowls, crossed-eyes (back then, at least) and premature beer belly make me think that it was not a pretty sight.
