One hot July day, approximately the fifteenth in 1960, my two older brothers decided to go for a raft ride in the creek near our home. Of course being the little sister and pest that I am, I just had to tag along. Well,we got stuck in some tulles and couldn't move. The water was to deep for us to wade to the shore and none of us knew how to swim yet.We yelled for help but none of our friends could get to us so someone ran back to tell our mom that we were stuck in the middle of the creek.Mom came down to the creek to check out what was going on and to see what was going to be needed to rescue us. She could see we were safe so she went back home and called dad at work. He came straight to the creek to check things out and said "I am not ruining a brand new pair of pants and shoes just to go wading in this d*mn creek!" He then proceeded to march home to change clothes and put on his hip-waders, then get a rope to drag us all the way back to shore. It had to have been at least ten feet away. Now please realize, I was only about five years old at the time and ten feet was a looong way away. Well my daddy rescued all three of us and took us home ,where he gave my brothers a good chewing out for taking me on the raft ride, never even considering the fact that I wanted to go in the first place. Come on now,how much sense could a five year old have about what kind of danger riding a raft in the middle of a creek could be?