My earliest memory was the celebration of my third birthday. Everything else before that seemed to be one big sleep, and I just happened to wake up then. I sported two pigtails, my hair was parted down the middle, and was dressed up in a short, pink, semi-diaphanous dress with matching handbag. I remember playing with balloons attached to sticks. All my (older-aged, but not significantly older) maternal cousins were seated around the table with me and my twin brother.
The birthday cake was the big deal, for a number of reasons. Firstly, because I don’t recall what were the presents we got (but they were probably stuffed animals). Secondly, because it was the first birthday cake I remembered ever eating. And thirdly, because I choked on my first slice of cake in my attempt to wolf it down as opposed to masticating it thoroughly — and had to be subject to a non-Heimlich maneuver (courtesy of one of my fast-thinking aunts) as a means of clearing the obstruction.
I think that experience was the one to stick with me, because it was one of those rare occasions where the focus of attention was on me, at an age where accomplishments weren’t needed to merit [it]. The attention was not all positive, though; in fact, it was memorable–almost for the wrong reasons!
- Daily Prompt: Childhood Revisited (dailypost.wordpress.com)