This is an actual memory. I was between 2.5-3, but I remember this pretty well.
We were living in Colorado. And out to eat at some restaurant with a salad bar. It should be mentioned that (much like Bertie) I love pickles, and I have from a young age. On one trip from the salad bar, my mom brought me a pickle. I popped it in my mouth. Except it wasn't a pickle, it was a hot pepper. I cried, and asked why she gave me that. She kept saying sorry, sorry. I was then a bit distrustful of her bringing me pickles.
On the first day at the Colorado house, I fell down the wooden steps.
I remember the nightmare that had me sleeping on my parents floor for months.
And I remember we had a mud room in from the back yard.
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