My First Memory Ever

Last Thursday I remembered something that I think might be my very earliest memory. That, in itself, seemed very cool to me, but I was (am) mildly disturbed by the content of the memory.

Until I was 1 1/2, my parents and I lived in a townhouse in Crofton, MD, down the street from a couple named Ted and Lil vanKirk. The vanKirks were the same age as my grandparents but they became friends with my parents. When I was that little, my mom mistakenly thought she could shield me from a life of junk food, so she didn't feed me anything sweet. Fortunately, Lil crushed that dream of hers early on, giving me cookies whenever I came over. So I called her Cookie Lil.

But I digress - that's not the memory. The memory took place sometime after we moved from Crofton to Severna Park (to the house where they still live) and just after I was potty trained. I had probably just turned 2 (my mother's told me that I was very grown up and decided one day to just be potty trained.) We were visiting the vanKirks and it must have been spring or summer because I was wearing a very short dress. And my parents, after a few minutes of pressure, convinced me to lift my dress up and show Ted and Lil my ruffly underpants.

I'm sure I didn't have to lift very far - my mother didn't dress me in anything that really covered my butt anyway. But what kind of earliest memory is that?

I guess they're just lucky I'm not a stripper. I need to work on remembering something less little-kid-slutty now, though. Like reading my first book or writing my name for the first time or something.