Above: Messes were always
fun to make. I think I liked
playing in the soil and the
feeling of the leaves on my
face.
Below: My first taste of baby
food, probably some type of
fruit.

But Mama said...

I don't have a first memory.

I don’t remember having dreams as a child. I don’t even remember what food tasted like when I was a kid. Mom told me I hated beets from the start. She said I was a good kid. I don’t remember. But, she said, I had my mischievous side. I don’t recall tipping over her plants and playing in the soil, cutting my bangs when I got paint in my hair. I don’t recall macaroni and cheese fights with my best friend Kari. The truth, I barely remember Kari.

The following are stories that I don't remember happening. I can only tell them because I've seen pictures or heard stories from my parents. Some memories are mine, others might be. Maybe in the deep recesses of my mind I remember all of this. Otherwise, this is what Mama said...

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Last modified: February 25, 2005 | April Anderson | Preface