Prohibition and my role in irt

John and I sat in a microbrewery in Naples, CA yesterday for an iced tea. Woe is us. Anyhow, on the wall was a picture of protesting beer lovers during Prohibition
So I told John of my favorite tale of what happened to me then when my parents, a partying pair, couldn't get their booze.
First, you have to understand that we lived in a two story house. You have to get it that my nursery was directly above the kitchen. Then you have to see that their home brew required agitation.
The cradle that formerly sheltered their newborn (moi) became a brewery and I was relegated to the floor. A rope connected the cradle to a kitchen window below and it was rocked every time mama washed her hands at the kitchen sink.
They said at 4 months of age I didn't differentiate between the floor and the cradle, but that's a likely story.
A likely story, indeed.