I remember taking my plastic golf clubs to Schenectady Municipal Golf Course with my Daddy. I also remember looking for golf balls in the woods of Muni, keeping them safe in my Yankees hat. Then I’d wash them in those red ball-washers that you have to swish terrifically up and down. I’m pretty sure Daddy picked me up to do that, because there’s no way I was tall enough to reach.
I’d then walk backwards up and down the course with my like-new golf balls rolling around in my cap, asking people if they would like to buy one for a quarter. I loved it. They loved it. I made a whole lot of loot off of being cute and entrepreneurial.
(Little me, age 3, Schenectady, NY.)