Birthday Boys Don't Cry

Memories of early childhood are sketchy for the first few years, which is not uncommon. I have a one distinct memory of being breastfed and another vague recollection of being bathed in the kitchen sink when I was about 18 months old. Other than that it is all a bit of a foggy patchwork of undated recollections until I was 4.

During those years I lived in the upstairs part of my parent's house. Downstairs was rented until the birth of my younger brother created a bit of a space problem. As I recall, the downstairs was rented to members of the family: my father's parents and later to a man my father called a brother but I have no idea how he was related to the family.

With very little knowledge to compare my living conditions to anyone else, I believe that my early years were spent in happy oblivion. I presume I must have been fed and watered on a daily basis. I have some recollection of using a potty and a rather indulgent partiality towards Farley's Rusks.

 

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