Mean People

When I was a kid, about 4 years old, I went to this Baptist pre-school in Indiana. I think it was mostly pretty fun. There was coloring and juice and naps. But one day, in the cafeteria, they served something I didn't like, so I wouldn't eat it. They decided it would be cool to make me sit there in the cafeteria all day or until I cleaned my plate. I sat there until my mom came to get me after work. She was mad, but she didn't say anything because she was only about 23 and it was the 70's and teachers were supposed to know best about what to do with little kids who wouldn't eat their lunches.

What I can't figure out is if I really remember this, or if I just think I remember it because I've heard the story. In my mind, I have created a memory of it. In my memory though, I am about the size of a sparrow, and the cafeteria is like Wembley arena, and whatever is on my plate is green and mushy and cold. I think most of my childhood memories are from stories, pictures, and super-8 movies. There are a few things I REALLY remember, but not that many. But sometimes, I'll smell something that makes me remember something or someone I wouldn't have otherwise thought of in a million years. Neuroscientists think this is because my olfactory (smelling) nerve is in close proximity to my hippocampus (memory center of brain), and they are probably right. My brother can remember all kinds of stuff from when he was really little. I think his memories are real.

Summary: The brain is interesting, and mean people are bad for kids.