1980, Petoskey, Michigan. In my 4th grade classroom of our isolated little town, I got a Dynamite magazine that had an article on Dungeons and Dragons. I don't know how, but reading the short feature, looking at the pictures, I just
knew that game was for me. It was love at first sight.
That afternoon, at afterschool snack (we always had afterschool snack, my favorite was oreos and orange juice) I told my mom. She got the game for me.
My mom was my first DM. I played a wizard, and my dad played Billy the Hindu Bishop, a cleric, because my mom had read that you always wanted a cleric. She ran us through B1, In Search of the Unknown, the dungeon that came with no monsters. I'm serious. You had to fill in the blanks yourself. My mom wrote in a few rats and a lizardman.
My mom was also my worst DM. We had no idea what we were doing. The game just fizzled under our incomprehension. Mom said, "Well, your cousins play. How about you learn how to play from them when you stay with them next summer?"
So I had a long wait until next summer, when I always stayed with my cousins for a while. They lived five hours away. Waiting was hard, but I still knew, I just knew, that I would love that game.
And then summer came, and we played, and I loved it.
Not to get sappy but sometimes it really gets to me how much my mom must have loved me to try to DM. My mom is unique (isn't everyone's?) and she has some issues that must have made DMing very, very tough. I guess it was kind of like asking a puppy to walk over hot coals to bring you your slippers. Ah well, that doesn't really capture it, I'm not sure what it was like. But I knew that she loved me.
