I was actually contemplating this topic not too long ago and thinking of writing a post about it. How fortuitous that The Daily Post made me follow through with this.
My earliest memory is of my youngest brother falling off of the changing table and breaking his leg. Neat, huh?
See, I was 4 years old at the time. My mother had put my brother on the changing table, but needed to go get something before she could change him (I can’t remember what). She asked me if I would hold my brother on the table so she could go get whatever she needed. I did.
When my mother returned, I headed out of the room. I was halfway through the bedroom door when I turned and looked back into the room. I have no idea what made me look back. But nevertheless I turned in time to see my mother standing there fiddling with whatever it was she had gone to get while my brother rolled right off the changing table.
My brother hit the floor and immediately began to wail. My mother dropped what was in her hands, threw them up in the air, and shouted, “I BROKE MY BABY!”
My brother, who was only a few months old at the time, ended up in a body cast. Evidently they didn’t want him moving his leg at all so they mummified him. I can only imagine how much fun it was for my mom to change his diaper after that.
Anyhow, that, dearest reader, is my earliest recollection. What’s yours?