A 1st Grade Memory
This just in: one of my most prominent early memories is when I sliced my hand open on a dried corn stalk. Growing up, there was a small cornfield maintained by a church near my house. I would walk by it every day to and from school. At some point after the harvest, one of my friends had the idea to tromp through the field kicking down and stomping on the dried stalks. It was a satisfying thing - to feel the snap and hear the crunch of all the stalks and husks. I felt powerful - for a 1st grader. Then I made a mistake - I took a swipe at one with my hand, and the sharp husk bit into the webbing between my thumb and index fingers. I felt the pain, looked down to see pale flesh and tiny blood vessels.
Then I ran home, and found that my mom had laid out Apple Cinnamon Cheerios for an after school snack. And I felt bad for ruining the perfection of the snack with the trouble of the blood running down my arm.