I guess it is one of the hardest things for a person to recall what happened in their past. Most of it would be too blurry to frame into one clear memory. You would not believe what had happened to you, unless of course your parents convinced you that it did happen to you. Probably it’s just because many things have happened to yourself, that only the important ones are kept intact. So much for brain power.

The most perfectly shaped memory of my early self  is when I was still back in Melbourne. I think I was still 3 years old.

It was in the morning. The sun was bright. My parents decided to go for  a walk, and they took me and my sister with them. I was in my green baby-suit, it was more like a baby tracksuit. I must have looked flashy.

We were on the sidewalk. Cars passed by. My sister and I were eating ice cream. I’m not sure how did that ice cream get into my hands. Ice cream truck? Mart? No idea. One thing for sure, the ice cream was mickey mouse.

Mickey mouse’s nose was some sort of an mnm chocolate sticking on the ice cream surface. A huge fat nose. I guess that was the real reason I wanted the ice cream. It looked funny. But who cares. It tasted good.

After a couple of licks, hell I don’t know how, mickey mouse’s nose came off and fell down to the pavement. I started to cry like a baby, maybe because I was a real baby. My mom and dad laughed at what happened, because I guess they think that that nose was way more precious than the whole ice cream according to me. Nonetheless, my dad picked me up, and that’s where the memory ends.

Up to this moment I still don’t have any idea at what happened afterwards. Did I stop crying? Did we get a new ice cream? Or maybe did I roll over on the ground pissing my pants? Hmm. I forgot to ask that to my parents.