New Trike

In 1947, evidently, when I was just three, I received a new tricycle. I remember having that trike for a very long time. Its whereabouts today are a complete mystery--it is probably a pile of rust somewhere. Grandson Anders has one that looks very much like it, however. In the picture, I seem to be having trouble reaching the pedals. My hairdo is nicely in place, though, and I've got my bibs on, but no shirt. That's a pretty smug look on my face. I'm thinking that this is probably right around my birthday. I don't recall for sure, but a good bet would be that the trike was a birthday present. The location is definitely the farm south of Clarence where we lived when I was that age. What else was going on in 1947? Well, the war had been over for around two years. My sister would have been about one and one-half years old, and my folks were a young 29. All was right in the world for me, with loving parents and lots of loving relatives and friends nearby.