When I was young, I had two aunts, portly ladies who sweated a lot and liberally dosed themselves with talcum powder, who, whenever they visited just could not restrain themselves—they had to hug and fondle their nephew. I grew up in Texas where it’s warm to hot almost year round and the combination of being almost smothered in their generous bosoms and breathing in sweat and talcum scent was overpowering and created in me a phobia to being hugged. I would sometimes run and hide whenever they visited, which drove my mother batty sometimes.
