TO Your earliest memory? what's yours?

Picking up whittling shavings as I set between my Elder Father's long legs while he carved me toys with his elk bone pocket knife. And giggling when he played with my long braids and said if I were hungry we could cut some of them off and fry them for supper. And how he cried inconsolably when he saw me later when the state had cut my hair.

I don't know.

Whenever I'm around family we tell stories about our past, what we remember about each other, what we think of each other, our history, teasing and bonding, supporting the family group.
There are lots of times family tells stories to others which I overhear.

The brain is a wonderful and evil thing.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/False_memory

But, I have no idea if my "earliest memory" is actually a memory, or a memory based on 40 years of family interaction, storied history, and my brain just creating pictures in my head throughout the years to please that social group and validate their memories.

Could be when I was 12 my mom asked me what my earliest memory was, and if I remembered something that she then describes.
Then I forgot that she asked me that, but I do remember the built memory.

There's a reason why eyewitnesses and children give horrible testimony.

My first memory ever, I was 2 and a half.
I'm sure it cannot be a false memory for the people I was with can't remember that event.
I can put an occasion on it from I always kept it in mind and the circumstances I lived this couldn't be placed at any other time of my early life.
I clearly stated that recall when I was around thirty, when I decided to re-orient my profession to something else, to mechanics.

It was summer time, some holiday spent on the sea side, we were three, my mother, my grandmother, my younger sister and I. It was time to have a rest and a snack after some walk. We stopped in a public park and if grandma complained about the lack of shadow from the surrounding trees, the summer on the northern coast of France is never too rough even in its hottest days. We sat on a bench and started to pic-nic.
Not long after we settled there, a street cleaning car came around the place, made a round and steered further in the park. All the time it was under my sight I was wondering "how the hell does it work ?" and "what makes its brushes turn on themselves and so gather the dirt ?"
Someday I'll know !... was my only conclusion.

Back to my thirties, I had studied literature, communication and advertisement, I used to work as a department manager in a DIY store but for the first time unemployed, my car broke down from its timing belt.
Without knowledge at all, just a repair manual and the tools I bought on the occasion, I fixed it.
Then I acknowledged the answer to my own question : how does it work ?
Then I followed a professional training course to learn more about all that stuff.

In the end, I just would say that my first memory is so early because it was yet about what makes us wondering the most : how does it work, whatever it can be, life, things, others....
I feel lucky I've found the answer.

When my father would lead the wee red wagon my sister and I were
in downhill to the bank, I had to sit in the back (being younger
and smaller) then when we went back home I had to sit in front
of the wagon so as not to fall out, my sister behind me.

This really ticked me off.
I wanted to sit in the grown-upperish spot!

I was less than 3 (as we moved to our growing-up house
when I was 3.)

awwwwwww, I hope you got your grown up spot when you got bigger.

I don't think I can remember anything from when I was 3.

you have got a very good memory, its those presents I keep sending you. ha ha

They are...eye openers :-)
No, I was always the littlest pretty much anywhere, I know I
had my driver's license before I was able to meet the height
requirements for driving those wee cars at Disneyland :-(

They are...eye openers :-)
No, I was always the littlest pretty much anywhere, I know I
had my driver's license before I was able to meet the height
requirements for driving those wee cars at Disneyland :-(

I close my eyes and think back and it just gives me nightmares.....No no grandma don't make me crawl into the oven and clean it...... I promise I will be a good boy..

you know what when I think back on it I was a really good boy.. .. I never cause my parents any grief I always did what was asked of me.. and I was very kind and considerate to my classmates....

so for the life of me I can't understand why grandma had it out for me..Lol.. she didn't realize I read the child's book Hansel and Gretel.. no way are you getting me in that oven