I remember brief snapshots from hospital when I was about 2 and a half getting a hernia operation. Also when I was bitten by a dog around the same age.

I remember getting my first dog on my second birthday. I remember of my dad and uncle carrying some mad contraptionist box that I couldn't understand at the time (probably a crate). Then I remember my dad opening the box and the dog backing out so that I saw her tail first, so it looked really weird but I recognized what it was and was either excited or scared, I can't quiet remember but I do know that it was some high level feeling. Had that dog for 15 years too, so I'm glad that that's the first memory that stuck.

I lied in my post my memory of us bringing my first dog home was when I was about 2. Not 3 or 4. The dog was only two years younger than me haha. Idiot.

Falling off a counter I'd climbed up on and busting my head open, I was maybe 4 or 5. My mama was cryin harder than I was.

My first memories of life revolve around music, and the records my father used to play. Most particularly at night.

"I Only Have Eyes For You" (The Flamingos) is one of those songs that remind me of being very small and tiredly slumped in a chair in mum's kitchen just before bed (and just before she shut the radio off).

Most of my memories of anything have music attached to them.

My first memory of my life is my father gives me a plastic mini bicycle on my 3rd birthday. It was a memorable day of my life. I could never forget that memorable day.

I remember when I was 3 or 4 years old, I went for a holiday with my family and we booked a chalet. And there's a goat near our chalet and my parents asked me to feed it. I think I was quite nervous that time. But it's a great memory to me.:D

Being in the bathtub singing along to "Like A Prayer" and playing with these weird foam bath toys. Must have been about 3?

One of my favorites was knocking over the ironing board and having it lodge itself in my head. I required 128 stitches that day and my mom was wearing white so she was ecstatic. Good times.

That sounds lovely. Likewise, I clearly remember the day I put my little hand right on the waffle iron.