I don’t remember much of my life before school. If the memories exist, they’ve been mixed with many others to the point where I can’t tell what happened and when. The first solid memories I can think of are from preschool. I remember a few faces, the classroom, learning to write my name, sitting in circles with the teacher, and being one of two boyfriends to a particularly vocal young girl. Other things that I know happened during that early time in my life include riding a raw Thanksgiving turkey thawing out in the bath tub and getting my head stuck in a crack outside my home. But that’s mostly because my parents love to tell the stories over and over again.
