I became conscious while walking through LAX airport holding my moms hand as we approached a strange smiling man with an afro and handle bar mustache (turns out it was my father)
I became conscious while walking through LAX airport holding my moms hand as we approached a strange smiling man with an afro and handle bar mustache (turns out it was my father)
I had to be around 3, which is as far back as my memory goes.
I just remember being with my dad out shopping, this was around Christmas-time too we were getting some shopping done and about to go home to make Pizzelle cookies for the mailmen and garbagemen as a “thank you” gift for their services.