The oldest memory that I can recall is when I got in an accident over 12 years ago. It happened on a normal day, normal at least for a 8 year old kid. Days started with me playing around, just seeing what all I can get into. I happened to be galloping around the house, seemingly just running around without purpose when all of a sudden I slipped on a cheap worn out rug that was laying in the kitchen. This all wouldn't have been to bad if I wouldn't have ran into the corner of a rugged microwave cabinet stationed right beside the rug that I had slipped on. From this point I remember yelling for my mother, and she of course came to my aid in astonishment at what I had managed to do to myself. After the partial lapse of amazement she rushed me into the car with a cold, dripping wet wash cloth placed over my head to cover the gushing gash that I created by slipping, face first into the cabinet. My father drove the car as fast as he could to the local clinic, and I remember the old, but energetic doctor coming to check me out. His name was Dr. Glick, and he assured me that everything would be fine. The only thing I remember after this is an image of Dr. Glick working overtop of me, and with this in mind I can almost feel the small sharp pricks of the needle that he was using to sew up the wound on my forehead. After this point in time I don't really remember much. I'm sure that I continued to romp around the house even after this accident, but I'm fairly certain that my parents started to keep a closer eye on me after this fiasco. To this day I still have this scar on my forehead, although it is almost unoticable at this point.
Another memory has popped up in my mind, and it took place at Kings Dominion, in the southern part of Virginia. I only remember running up to hug Yogi the Bear, and I can remember seeing all of the other usual characters running about around us.