The long story
My first memory was visiting our former neighbors a few towns over. My older brother, Jeff, was really excited to go back there, though I was mostly apprehensive. The neighbor ended up being very nice, and I recall specifically standing next to a piano for a few minutes.
Not long after that, I vaguely recall the roughhousing incident in our family room when I fell off the couch with some force, and cut open my forehead on the ledge of the fireplace. Those were my first stitches, and the scar remains on my forehead, though nowadays it blends right in with my rapidly-deepening wrinkles.
My younger brother, Greg, needed eye surgery when he was 3 or 4 years old. He came out of it no worse for wear, and he received a Ghostbusters fire house playset from my parents that became the base of operations for all our action figures for years. If the Ghostbusters were real, they likely would have been perturbed by all the Ninja Turtles and Starfleet officers hanging out in their offices.
Wait... what am I doing? This is a lot of detail for some random guy who makes websites in the mitten state. If you've read this far and want to read more, could you email ao5357 [at] gmail.com and let me know I've got more writing to do?
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