My earliest childhood memories are pretty fragmented. I remember bits and pieces from pretty early on in life, a fact that I find frustarating as someone with a generally very good memory!
Probably the earliest thing I can remember is half a memory from when I must have been about 2 and a half. I know I was that old because it is our old house and I turned 3 in the house in which I currently live. I say half a memory, because that is really what it is. I remember a storm outside. I remember being in bed and being scared. I remember my mum sleeping in my bed with me. That’s it.
I remember my 3rd birthday cake, it was Zippy.
When I was about 3 or 4 I remember having my photo taken while on holiday and suddenly realising that while I was posing for the photo I had been sat in an ants nest. I literally had ants in my pants.
I remember racing my brother down the (ridiculously steep) stairs in out new house. We were racing to watch the Adams Family, important obviously. I fell down the stairs.
I remember a holiday to France when I was 5. I fell out of bed in the middle of the night, banged my head and got a conclusion, a French doctor came to talk to me which was more disorientating than my bumped noggin. That same holiday I watched some cows being milked, I got poo all over my new pink shoes. Theirs not mine.
Rest assured my memory has got a darn sight better over the years, but thanks for meandering down memory lane with me.