I used to eat dirt

I did.

My brother who stole toys from the neighborhood and crapped his pants in front of half the neighborhood was considered normal. I ate dirt, when I wasn't eating sunflower seeds and had my nose constantly stuck in a book. When I wasn't writing wild stories about things that didn't really exist. When I wasn't running from monsters that didn't really chase me. When I wasn't talking to the rabbits in their house. When I wasn't walking way out in the country and pretending to get lost. When I wasn't looking for treasure that I was sure Jesse James buried back in they day. When I wasn't pretending to be Laura Ingalls not of the TV series but of the books.

I used to eat dirt....and brown crayons.