Round Cookie: My mom, my brother, and I were visiting our relatives in PA (Dad may have been there, but he's not in the memory). Ben and I each had gotten to eat at least one cookie. I had asked for another, and my aunt Emma (who was always just "Emma" to us), asked if I thought she should break a cookie in half for the two of us to share. My response, I'm told again and again, was "No, give Ben a ROUND cookie." At this point, the teller of the story stretches out the vowel of "round" to last at least a full second, while shaping their lips into a perfect 'o' shape—something I can only assume I did at the time. The joy of this story is that the adults saw in my childhood brain the greatest scheme of all time: if Ben got a "round" cookie, that is, an unbroken one, then I would logically get a full cookie as well. I can't be sure that was my motivation, but it seems consistent with my personality, both then and now.
Are You a Lion?: Much shorter, much cuter - my Dad tells me that I was bounding around the living room of our home roaring and in general behaving in a lion-like fashion. My Dad asked me "Are you a Lion?" My younger self apparently was quite precocious, because Dad says that without missing a beat, I replied in an exasperated tone: "No, I'm pretending to be a lion!" I'm not sure if I genuinely thought he was confused by my act or if I was insanely witty, but either way, it's an adorable story.
Dinosaur decorations: This story is actually from pre-school, because that's where it happened, at my late grandmother's preschool. I remember we were making what I'm fairly sure were Christmas ornaments shaped like dinosaurs. In fact, I think my parents still have one of them. They were made out of something that was somewhere between cookie dough and playdough, and I am 90% sure they were actually made with cookie-cutters and ribbon. I remember that I was so excited. I also remember that that was the day I discovered I had chicken-pox, and I got immediately sent home, without getting to finish my project. I was crestfallen. I think I may have known what it meant, because I seem to remember trying to hide that I was sick so I wouldn't miss out. I can only assume someone else, possibly Ben, had been sick with the Pox beforehand, and I had recognized how much I would be limited if the adults knew. This one isn't all that adorable, but keep this in mind in the event of a zombocolypse: I am not to be trusted. If you think I have been infected, you check me for bites and check daily for signs of change.
