When I was a kid, growing up in New England, my parents would occasionally get live lobsters from the grocery store. My dad would always let me play with them before dinner. It always made me so sad when it was time for them to die, and to this day my parents bring up one particular night that I was begging them, “you can’t kill them, they’re my friends!” It’s a fun story for them, but it probably traumatized the fuck out of me.

My aunt’s birthday is December 24th. At age 5, I considered this and then announced aloud: “Aunt Helen is as old as Jesus!”

It’s been 35 years, and it comes up every year.

As a child I had a problem pronouncing “chocolate” so I called it “drawer”.

This makes more sense to people who know German since that’s what I was using at the time.

I was “playing Minesweeper” outside by digging up dirt and offloading it on the area in front of our house. Until my parents caught me, that is.

That one time in a restaurant when I face planted in my hotdog, fast asleep

The first computer I made with my dad I forgot to put the stoppers between the motherboard and the case and could of fried it but now whenever I talk tech with my dad he always brings it up. Not anything of the good things I did but that.

i locked myself in a revolving door

Whenever I was shopping with my parents, little old toddler me would somehow end up with a baguette in her hands the moment we were anywhere near the bakery or bread section. By the time we got to the till, said baguette was almost non-existent and my parents had to pay for it. Scandalous!

I still love baguettes and I’ll just eat them as a snack haha.

Every time I stood up and tried to walk, my brother pushed me over again.
So apparently I gave up and didn’t start to walk until I was 2 and a half.
Instead I sat on a metal dinner tray and pushed myself forwards with my hands, with the tray sliding on the carpet.
They told me I got pretty fast, too.
They called me “Fidelesrutscher” (buttocks slider)

Having autism in a family that even today, isn’t fully educated on the matter, my family still brings up how much I hated the air compressor as a kid and would instantly start crying (from the loud noise).

Nothing. I don’t talk to any of my family.

Climbing around on the roof of our 2 floor house.

I shit my pants once when I was like ten and a certain relative still brings it up on every single family gathering now even over 20 years later.