One of my earliest memories is when I was only 14 or 15 months old. I was staying at my grandparent's house for the afternoon, and I faintly remember one part of the time I was staying there. Grammers and Grampers (which is what I called them since I couldn't say grandma and grandpa) had a tiny rocking horse that you sat in and just rocked back, and forth, back, and forth.
Another thing I used to do in that old beat-up horse is to scoot it around. "Scoot, scoot, scoot. wee," I thought, as I scooted around the ground. Grammers and Grampers had to tell me to stop, otherwise I would scrape their floor. But who cares about scraped wood floors? I was less that a year and a half old. I would scoot forward, and then I would scoot back until I hit a wall. This was so amusing for me, and I would spend most of my time at their house just rocking in the horse. Here's the horse (and me)...
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