[Editor's note: Here's the first of many contributions to this month's Monthly Musing topic, The start of the affair. -- CTZ]

When I was little, I used to sit quietly in kindergarten class, staring at the ceiling, carefully projecting the image of that busy stretch of highway above me so that I could play the game in my head. It wasn't as fun as the real thing, mostly because I always won, but it held me over until I got home, anyway.

It sounds funny, but what can I say, I was obsessed with that little green goober, Frogger, and the angry cars that threatened his livelihood! I couldn't even wait until I got home to play it, I had to have it right then and there. When I couldn't play it, I'd draw it. I'd lay out a piece of construction paper and use crayons to draw the cars and logs and little caves at the top. Then I'd use a quarter as the frog and shuffle it across, careful to avoid the static cars and frozen crocs. When I couldn't draw it, I'd imagine it. I'd just play the game in my head without a care in the world. I was easily amused and prone to obsession even at a young age. (Later I'd think back and understand why the teacher had always treated me so gently and took extra time to explain everything. Sitting there staring at the ceiling all wide-eyed and slack jawed; she must have thought I had brain damage.) More after the jump.