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My dad used to work for Aerojet Space Company so we moved around a lot my first ten years. I was born in Alabama where an Aerojet plant was. We lived there until I was about three and then we moved to California. We lived there for a few years and then moved to Maryland. We lived in Maryland when I was between five and nine years old. When I was five I lived in Potomac, Maryland. We lived at the end of a dirt road with a forest in our backyard and an abandoned gold mine across the street. It was truly a kid's paradise. Summers were hot and muggy. The minute you walked out of the house you attracted a variety of bugs that tried to get into every orifice. Winters were cold and wet and each day brought fun filled snow adventures. My friends and I used to explore the woods behind our house and discovered snapping turtles in the stream. Needless to say we discovered them the hard way. From Potomac we moved to Bethesda, Maryland. Once again we had a forest in our backyard. My brother was finally old enough to go on adventures with me and adventures we had. I continued with my interest in turtles but this time stayed away from the snapping variety or so I thought. My brother and I would collect turtles, big box turtles and keep them in my brother's old playpen. At one point we had so many turtles they were crawling all over each other desperately trying to get out. My mom told us that we could each pick one turtle. I, of course, picked the biggest. He was a big, yellow box turtle who I appropriately named Yellowy. I took him everywhere. I made a special spot for him in my room but he basically had the run of the house. I just loved him so. He was not shy and had surprising energy. One day I was so overcome with love for him I bent down and kissed him. Now no one ever told me that it probably wasn't a good idea to kiss a turtle on the mouth. But I did it. He clamped down on my lip so hard he actually hooked onto it. I jumped up with Yellowy dangling from my lip and started screaming. I ran around the house with this giant turtle hanging aggressively from my lip. My mom somehow got him unhooked and I had a nice size hole in my lip. I had to go to the doctor and get a tetanus shot. I still continued to love Yellowy but I did treat him a little differently. I also learned to have a healthy respect for wild animals. It is safe to say I did not or have not kissed another turtle since that incident. So the moral of my story? Don't kiss a turtle.

Learn more about this author, Melissa Grabarkewitz.
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