When I was little, we had a little dachshund named Zeke. I distinctly remember my mom and I discussing what we should name him, and me proposing “Zeke.”
My parents got that dog at least five years before I was born.
When I was little (maybe 6?) I had a very realistic dream that I sat up in bed and looked out the window to my right, only to see a witch flying around the moon. The witch gradually got larger as she came at me, swooped through the window, and landed in my room, cackling…well, like a witch.
I must have woken up from that dream while I was running down the hall to my parents’ room. It was so real. I can still see it so clearly!
It wasn’t until I was a little older that I realized it had to be a dream, since the window was past the foot of my bed and I wouldn’t have been able to look out the window just by sitting up in bed. That was my only clue that it had been a dream, and I held onto that proof like a lifeline!
I remember climbing up to the roof of our garage when I was maybe 12. I saw a star shoot and stay in place in the sky. I remember thinking it was a fireworks as it was going up. But then it just stayed in the sky. Obviously I didn’t see what I thought I did.
My parents surprised us with a couple of kittens when I was 6 or 7. The kittens were exploring the house, and one started to go somewhere he shouldn’t. I was standing nearby, so I used my foot to scoot him away from there, as I had recently seen my aunt do to her cat. My mom yelled at me for it. Later, she was telling someone about this, and I began to protest that I was only doing what I had seen my aunt do. I remembered clearly that we had been at my aunt’s house, on her deck, and she was nudging her cat with her foot as I was telling her about… the new kittens we had just gotten a few days before.
For years, I was convinced there had been some kind of time loop.
Now, I’m pretty sure there wasn’t.
There was a big airshow that happened a town away from us and the planes would be doing practice flights for a couple of weeks beforehand. This was in the summer holidays so if we weren’t in the garden when they went oevr we would dash outside when we heard the planes.
What I remember is standing outside on the lawn between the house and garage, just by where the rambling rose went up the wall of the coal house. A helicopter came down so low that we could clearly see the pilot and passenger, so low that we could have talked to them if it hadn’t been so noisy. in my memory both my parents were there. I don’t think it happened because I don’t remember any wind from the rotors. I did ask Mum about it but she obviously thought it was a silly thing to be asking about and didn’t really take it in.
I have a “memory” of lying in my crib and reaching for the foam animals dangling from the mobile hanging above it. Since my sister was 3 years younger, I expect I just dreamed about the one above her crib, or actually did go lay in her crib, and am just misremembering that.
I have two very vivid memories from when I was tiny- one was standing in the room, reaching up, and touching the ceiling. For at least a year afterwards, I’d regularly shut myself in the room, and stand in the middle of the floor stre-t-c-hing as much as I could, but it never happened ‘again’. 
The other was when I was running downstairs in the middle of the night, desperate for the toilet- except near to the bathroom was another door, one I’d never seen before, with a light shining behind it. I was so desperate, I dived into the bathroom instead of opening it, and when I got out, a little emptier, the door had gone. I spend a little while examining the wallpaper, then gave up tired, and went back to bed. I never saw it again, but always hoped I would whenever I needed a nocturnal wee, until we moved out when I was 8.
I have a distinct memory of changing my own diaper. It’s almost as if I was looking through my father’s eyes.
Yeah, but that was last week.
There’s an article in the latest Wired about how memories are rebuilt by our brains every time we remember them. Seems to me there’s a lot of scope in there for adjustments and editing.
Naw, over the past couple of weeks someone’s been changing his diapers. Or bedpans.
It must have been the Room of Requirement! :eek:
I clearly remember the architecture of a childhood residence as being a certain way, but having visited it since I discovered it was quite different.
I do that too, with different places from my childhood, except in my memory they’re the reverse of real-life. It’s like my brain flipped the memory into a mirror-image.
I remember the BIGGEST SPIDER EVER crawling into our bathroom while I was on the throne shortly after being toilet-trained. It was silvery-grey, with a HUGE round, flat body about the size of a quarter. It had 8 short legs and took up the width of the quarter-round. (Cue little-kid me launching off the can and running the entire length of the house to the livingroom with my pants around my ankles then leaping onto the back of the sofa screaming the entire time.) Come to think of it, I’ve never seen a spider like that since, in real-life or in pictures. Hmmmm…
The earliest thing I can remember is being bathed in a plastic blue baby bath tub. It had an indented place where you were supposed to place the baby’s head to keep that part out of the water. I distinctly remember that I was slipping and fearing for my life, when suddenly my mother’s hand would prop me up again. But I still hated it.
To me this was absolutely real. If it was, I don’t know.
When I was 5 I went to someone’s house with my parents. When I got out of the car I saw two enormous cats laying on the driveway. They were as big as those giant pigs you see at fairs. For years after I talked about the giant cats at the Fenwick’s house.
When I was about four, me and my cousins were staying in a caravan outside the house where the adults all were. (Unsupervised, we were seventies kids.) I’d borrowed two books off my cousin. They were in the same series - one was pink and one was blue. Being a boy I decided I only wanted the blue one, so due to some kid-logic that eludes me, I took the pink one and toddled up to the house and posted it through the letterbox. Then I retired to my bed and read the blue one. I put it under my pillow and went to sleep.
When I woke up I looked under my pillow to find ::crashing strings:: the pink book. And the blue one was in the hallway of the house.
To this day I don’t know how that happened.
(Well, I have a good idea what happened, but I am still completely adamant was the blue one I posted. It was it was it was!)
I moved countries when I was 3 years old. A few decades ago I went back to the land of my first memories. My God, everything was like a miniature movie set! The vast playground I remembered was maybe 50’ square!
Sorry… It says
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In the Super Nintendo game Mario Paint, there’s a music maker. The music maker comes with three default songs. As a kid, I was convinced that I had actually composed the third one. I have no clue how I came to this conclusion, as I was otherwise not the type of kid to make up tall tales. Even today I still have this faint inkling that I made that song, even though I know it’s impossible.