I was in my kitchen at my old house, following my mom around as she was washing dishes or something. I kept asking her how old she was, and she kept answering, "thirty-five." I must have been four at the time because I know my mom was thirty-one when I was born. There are no extraordinary circumstances to this memory, it seems to just be a random and everyday event. My personality and identity do not feel the same as they were back then.
-- Edited by sgorman on Tuesday 20th of October 2009 12:43:22 PM
