My first memory is of hanging myself in my crib....

Now believe it or not I actually have warm fuzzy feelings about this.
I have no idea how old I was, but it was so young that I had no idea
my life was in danger, I was just stuck.

I remember every detail very clearly.

I can describe in detail the entire bedroom, from those pictures of
bears on the wall, (matched the one on the crib), to the color of the
carpet.

I had woken up from my nap and had reach over the railing to open the
the bedroom door to call my "Mom". Something I had done a lot of I
think.
But I guess on this occasion the crib had been shifted a bit, and I
couldn't reach the door knob.

So I tried to crawl through the bars of my crib, head first.

No go, my head was just to fat. (I've been a fat head ever since)

So, I went feet first. I had almost escaped my blue bear painted crib
when something happened.

My head still wouldn't go through the bars.

Lucky for me, my feet did land on the blue-green carpet.

My mother came in a short time after I found myself "stuck". Unable to
climb back into the crib, unable to continue escape.

My mother freaked.

My only thought was, "Mom will get me out"

She couldn't. I think the main reason was she simple didn't want to
hurt me getting me out of this position I had placed myself in.

So she called for my Dad.

Now this is why the warm fuzzy feelings come over me when I think of
this.

She called my dad by name. (Yelled for him in fact)

It was at that moment, with all that was going on around me, stuck
in between the bars of my crib, my mother with panic in her voice...

... that I knew my Dad's name.

Wolfe