grew up in Indianapolis, Indiana in a wild and noisy family. My parents took in kids, and by the time I was 13 there were officially eight of us, three originals and five adopted - not including the other dozen or so who stayed anywhere from a few months to a few years. Most of us ranged closely in age, and since none of us looked alike, people could never figure out what we were? A school group? A performance troupe? A religious organization? My father liked to make a big to-do whenever we went anywhere, and to my embarrassment would crack corny jokes about us. e were famous for exotic pets. We had the usual assortment of dogs and cats, but there were also chickens, ducks, mice, turtles, an alligator, and at one time we even had a mule. It was a "joke" gift from the Shriners to my grandfather, who briefly served as mayor of Indianapolis. I don't think anyone expected Grandpa to keep it, but he sent it on over to our house, where it had all kinds of adventures and got us in trouble with the neighbors.