My earliest memory happened when I was just three years old. It was a warm day and my brother, sister, and I were outside with our babysitter. My brother had decided he was going to wash our cement steps with both soap and water. I don't recall what I had to go inside for, but as I made my way up, I slipped on the soapy steps.
It was a slow process as I face planted into the garden. A piece of wood bark lodged itself into my chin. I screamed bloody murder and started bleeding everywhere. I don't remember too much of what happened next until my dad arrived home from work to get me.
There was blood all over me and my dad was trying to find my shoes. I remember sitting on our golden colored chair waiting for my dad to find my second shoe. He couldn't seem to find it anywhere. He finally found it under the chair I was sitting on.
We finally made it to the ER where I was taken back and the curtains were drawn. My mom was at work at the hospital so she joined us back there. The doctor stitched me up with five blue stitches and gave me a new coloring book and crayons for being such a good sport.
I don't remember all the details of the day, but there was quite a bit that stood out for being three years old. There are other memories I remember more, but this is definitely the earliest of them all.
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