I was three years old, not too long before my fourth birthday. I ran out of the kitchen of my childhood home (my parents didn't move until after all the kids were gone) through the dining room and into the living room where I jumped onto the couch and knelt there for five minutes to stare out the window. I have no idea what motivated me to do so, and I've always found it curious that my impression of life before then was simply nothing. It's like that was the instant the last necessary connection was made and my consciousness finally kicked in.