I can only remember so much of my life, so without wanting to bore the shit out of you with the meaningless things (i.e this entire series of my life) I will try and keep it simple. Time to move on.

YEARS TWO AND THREE

I have grouped these two years together, as quite frankly, I’m a lazy fuck.

So, by now I had managed to learn the art of walking and talking, pretty much essential things in everyday life. I would interact with my cuddly toys, Teddy Edward (I still miss you, l’il dude x) being my main teddy to talk to in times of crisis. Being able to walk also encouraged me to find random areas of the house to crouch down and go for a dump in my nappy. I didn’t need to lie or sit down, it was all about the freedom of movement for me. Soon I would be potty trained, and eventually toilet trained (via the aid of a designated ‘wiper’, aka my Mum) but for now, I could dump and run. Then cry when I fell over and sqiudged shit up my nappy.

Being a toddler running around all the time also meant accidents. There are a few I remember vividly, almost as if they had happened yesterday. The first one I really remember was trapping my big toe under a door. I don’t know if I was trying to kick it out of anger, or whether I had just invented the worlds most stupidest game. Anyhow, what seemed to feel like an eternity having my toe trapped under this door, I decided to somehow break free. To me, it felt like my toe was hanging by a thread, when in reality I had done nothing more than graze the bugger. I applied several dressings to my wound until it eventually healed over.

My next accident was the worst one of my life. It still gives me nightmares to this day. We lived in a cul-de-sac, in a house at the bottom of a steepish hill. (It seemed steep at the time, I could probably walk up it and back in ten seconds now.) One day I tried to ride my tricycle down it. I say tried, what I think really happened was that my sister helped me to the top, then decided to push me so I went full pelt with no brakes into the garage at the bottom of the hill. I remember my top lip was bleeding quite bad, I was crying and screaming on the sofa (proper tantrum, the type where you kick your legs and everything) and in the background, just starting on the television, was Grange Hill. Suddenly, everything felt better again.

We moved not long after that (I really did get my own way as a three year old) and soon I went to play-school. I think I could read by this time, the first book I read was Chicken Licken. I haven’t read this book since my childhood, but I think the animals all get eaten by a fox. Its a pretty gruesome, sick thing to give a three year old to read. I suppose in this day and age it would be banned and replaced with Chicken Licken sponging off the state and getting a luxury four bedroom house, swanning around doing fuck all. Foxy Woxy would probably be allowed to roam the streets, even though he was a mass murderer. Turkey Lurkey would have been eaten for Christmas.

One day, whilst at nursery, I wrote something on the blackboard. The first words I had ever written, anywhere, this was my defining moment. Three letters, quite a simple word to write, but one which many of the Mums who were watching didn’t really approve of me writing. The word in question? ASS. I was quite pleased by it, after all, I had written it left handed, thats pretty skillful for a kid. I even started shouting to my Mum that I had written the word ass on the blackboard. She did not look amused. I think she may have smacked me on mine when we got home.

It was also at nursery that I fell off the climbing frame. This is my first recollection of embarrassment, because all the other kids were staring at me as I cried in my Mothers arms. I told them to stop looking at me, but that is basically like telling somebody to not look behind them. It was at this moment that I realised people are always going to stare at you if you make a cock of yourself. Yes, I was showing off, yes, I fell off and hurt myself, and yes, I was doing it to impress a girl.