Oh, those precious memories of childhood! Everyone has them, and some are more precious than others. I was the middle child, but before you feel sorry for me, let me tell you: I was the only girl with an older and younger brother. Some might say I was a daddy’s girl, and they wouldn’t be wrong. Growing up, I lived on a dead-end street in Elk Township, New Jersey. We rode bikes and motorcycles, swung from Tarzan swings, swam in our pool, and played under the streetlight when the sun went down.