Years ago drinking with a group of friends at our favorite hangout the subject of earliest memories came up. As we went around the table the responses were varied but typical;  mostly in the two to three-year old range and usually involving interactions with a parent or sibling. Then the girl I was dating at the time said she remembered lying in her crib (that’s baby crib not yo MTV crib) looking up at the mobile spinning overhead.

Say what? Lying in the crib?

When the subject resurfaced a few weeks ago the crib story popped into my head and a cursory poll of a few people resulted in no one remembering lying in their crib.  As I asked friends for this post for their earliest memory I felt certain nobody would have a similar memory from that young of an age. Of course someone did, the first person I asked.

Darcy remembers lying in her crib looking towards the fireplace on the other side of the room. It figures it was another lady to have a memory of such a young age. Most of the ladies I asked had memories from a very young age, most guys were a little later. The ladies remembered colors and smells, the guys places and events.

Anna’s was neither. Her memory was her grandmother pushing her in a stroller at age three and feeling indignant about being old enough to walk but her grandmother insisting she ride in the stroller. Dannielle recalls playing with a perfume bottle while walking out to her family’s jacuzzi on the back patio. She finished her story with “I have no idea what that means….”  Neither do I Dannielle. Carri was hanging from her second story porch when her dad, in the backyard at the time, came to the rescue and caught her as she fell to the ground. When I asked if she remembered how she ended up hanging off the second story porch she answered “I dunno.”

Evan remembers eating mint chocolate chip ice cream while watching Frankenstein on the family’s black and white TV. Some of the memories were that detailed while others were quick glimpses. My sister’s is watching a balloon on a string in Hawaii. When I asked her what color the balloon was she couldn’t recall. Chris recalls sitting on her dad’s desk as he worked at home, she vividly remembers the smell of the pipe he smoked.

Poppi’s was one of the few both detailed in nature as well as revealing a glimpse into her future. She remembers starting a lemonade stand with her older sister on a hot day. Wearing a sundress and the stickiness of the lemonade. Running around barefoot. The excitement of standing on the corner and loving the attention of working the stand. She later became an actress.

Some were the antithesis of how I know those people today. My friend Bill is one of the most squared away people I know. Not a flashy dresser either. He remembers waking up one morning, putting on his American flag pants (I would pay good money for a picture of this), and running into the kitchen screaming to his mother “It’s my birthday!” His mother had to remind little Billy it was March and his birthday is in September.

Alexis gave me several (The exercise was earliest memory Ms. Pike) from sticking beans up her nose, drawing a picture in markers on the living room carpet, to hiding in her safe spot-under her mother’s ebony grand piano. While some people wrote their memory in one or two short sentences, Alexis described hers in incredible detail in long descriptive paragraphs. I wonder if her attention to detail visually at such a young age led her to her chosen career-Alexis is a professional photographer.

Mine? Similar to other guy’s, mine is an event. I remember riding my tricycle down our short but steep driveway, losing control, and crashing into the street at the end of the driveway. I was probably three or four, definitely at the age where such an event would lead to tears but I remember knowing I wasn’t suppose to ride down the driveway and looking up from my accident to see if my parents were around. They weren’t but it was the first of many occasions where I did something I wasn’t supposed to, crashed, and looked around to see if I had been caught. I usually was.

I don’t remember what year the school photo is from but I distinctly remember that day. I wore a white, button-up, collared shirt to school for picture day but at lunch spilled food on my bright white shirt. In another sign of future adolescence behavior, I covered up my gaffe in a less than conspicuous way. However getting busted later (When the photos came in the mail) was always preferable to getting in trouble in the moment.