I'm not sure if the grass was green, the sky a deep azure blue, and the privet hedge neatly trimmed. What I am sure of is that it was a beachball. It bounced once, twice, thrice, and (rather pathetically) a fourth time.
Admittedly I was in a pre linguistic state at the time, but when it lay before my infant gaze I distinctly remember thinking 'hmmm, that is definitely stripey, but I'm not that impressed'.
Given that this is my first memory I should, by rights, be a Venice Beach hunk playing naked volleyball with a bevy of white teethed, huge breasted, Californian babes.
The thing is, I'm not. I'm not sure that this is an acceptable state of state of affairs.
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10 comments:
Oh, look who's back from skiving off around the world!
A beach ball, eh? Mine's a magazine - there was another baby in the magazine and I was shaking it so the baby would come out.
That sounds like attempted child abuse to me.
Earliest memory?
The flames from my empty bottle,having just thrown it in the open fire.
An embryonic petrol bomber no doubt.
Bouncing should be my earliest memory - I rolled off the settee. But it's more a vague awareness of terror.
Bouncing beach balls sound nice.
sitting on a blanket under an apple tree and having a robin come up and flap me in the face. probably nesting season.
how are you enjoying your new breasts?
It wouldn’t surprise me if this is a common scenario on your back deck.
Crikey MJ, that just burst my bubble.
What a lucky boy you are.
My first memory is a packet of 'Capstan Full Strength'.
I realised at a very early age that my parents loved it more than they loved ME.
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