When I was a child, I was terrified of holes. Yes, holes. All holes. From the large gaping hole exposed when the water supply of a residential area was left uncovered to the holes that form in the batter when pancakes were being prepared for a Saturday morning breakfast feast. I was convinced that all holes were dangerous and served to draw me into them against my will where I’d spend eternity away from my family and friends. As a result, I never wanted to eat pancakes and my mother would always Continue Reading
