I was about 2 when my Mother caught me trying to sneak down the basement steps, I was crawling backwards down the steps and was only 3 or 4 steps down when she opened the door and said “Where you going little man?” I wanted to go play in the coal bin, even then I liked to get dirty.

The first memory of my Dad was at about 3, he was watching a Packers game on TV and I was sitting in his lap. I asked him when was he was going to play for the Packers, he told me that he wasn't good enough to play football. I was devastated to learn my Dad couldn't do something, my Dad was a god to 3 year old me. Fast forward 25 years and I have my 3 year old daughter in my lap while watching a Packers game, she asked me the same question and I gave the same answer as my Dad did, I thought the poor kid was going to cry, the good news is that she got over it.

Dozing in my Grandma's front porch in the sunshine with her cat nestled up to me.

The first memory that sticks with me was being just over a year old, standing between my mom and dad in the car, reading street signs out loud.

I learned to read extremely young. Was 5th grade reading level by kindergarten and college level before 1st grade. In other news, remember when cars had bench seats and seat belts were vaguely recommended?

My first memory is sitting in a cot looking at a picture book of cats and my older brother throwing a toy fire engine in on top of me. I also remember having a wee on top of a record player and sparks coming out (of the record player) I think I would have been about two.

The stereotype of getting older and memory loss is, I think, to do with recent memory. My dad, who has Alzhiemers, can't remember what day it is but can tell me how much he paid for his first trip to the pictures, and what the movie was. He was about three or four, and his mum had to take him out because he was laughing so much :)