Three, that's the magic number

So, here's a first for me; I'm going to pick up a meme from Parlancheq's blog. More specifically, the Three by Three Childhood Moments That Made Me Me meme really appeals to me somehow (I probably don't want to think about why this is so), so here I go. Sorry if the formatting (line breaks, etc.) doesn't come out right - if somebody wants to explain to me how I can get Blogger to believe my html tags, please feel free to comment. Okay, here goes: I. Infant and Toddler Years

1. I'm told I was a quiet, earnest sort of kid, unlike my older sister who cried and fussed a lot, apparently. An aunt of mine used to worry about both of us, though - I can remember her long and melancholy face leaning over us saying "SUCH solemn children, I don't know..." I don't remember her ever hugging me or doing anything to actually improve the situation, but then almost all my memories of aunts and uncles are of somber, grey-faced distant people I was told to be quiet around.
2. I learnt German in kindergarten (my parents only talked English with my sis' and me until the age of three) from the other kids. I remember none of this, but I do remember answering the question whether I was protestant or catholic with an insistent "I'm German!" and being confused. I can remember being terrified by German carnival (it was celebrated with a fancy dress day at the kindergarten), crying and wanting to go home. Then again, I was the only kid without a costume 'cos my parents didn't believe it was a good thing to celebrate carnival, so maybe I just felt left out.
3. My best friend Kai lived in the flat right above my parents' one. The only thing we didn't do together was when I fell off the top of his bunk bed head-first and got concussion (he didn't join me on that one). Yes, I know that explains many things (having dinged my bonce so hard so early in life)... He and I were inseparable until my parents bought a house and we moved away.

II. Elementary School Years

1. Not wanting to sound too melodramatic here, but I "didn't get out much" as a school kid. My Mum made us stay at home and play on our own quite a lot. This was (I understand) because she believed it would be good for us to learn to enjoy solitude and our own company at an early age. I suppose it was influential in giving me a wild-fire, lively imagination and thinking about it, maybe it's one reason for my habit of talking to myself when I'm alone, which I find immensely irritating... I guess it also helped me discover and foster my love of books, which has to be a "pro". Also, I really, really value time spent with friends now - that may also be an offshoot.
2. One of my clearest memories from primary school is of standing up to a teacher who I felt was doing me wrong. Quite where I found the courage to do so is beyond me, but this lady would always call me "Eduardo" in a fake Spanish accent, which I hated. I know I had asked her not to do so politely and quietly before (I remember her as a wily character who would act pretty much at random, throwing chalk and sets of keys at pupils when angry, etc. She once hit me on the head with those keys - do you see a recurring theme here? Cranium-hard stuff interface seems to have been influential in my development). Anyway, she did it again, making the whole class laugh. Okay, so I probably hadn't been paying attention. But anyway, I got up and told her right there that if she called me "Eduardo" again, I would call her "Biene Mayer", a comedy version of her surname. This time, the laughs were on my side and, though I can't remember her immediate reaction, I know that she stopped hassling me after that. Today, I can not fathom for the life of me what gave me the gall to face off with her in such a way, but I swear I did it then - ask my parents!
3. I know I was a terrible liar as a primary school kid. I told all my friends loads of lies about places I'd been on holiday, exciting stuff I'd done, etc. Where I got the ideas/inspiration for my stories I can only guess as we didn't even have a TV at the time (my parents' philosophy again), but I know I felt inferior to many of my class-mates and I guess imagining stuff was my way of compensating.

III. Adolescence Years

1. I loved most of my years as a teenager. And no, I don't believe there's too much nostalgia tinging that comment. There was some awkward stuff, like having spots and being rebellious, but overall I have overwhelmingly positive memories. I guess that in itself ought to give one cause for concern... I had a large group of friends (no more stay-at-home enforcement) whom I loved, I finally got to play drums like I'd always wanted, etc. I think I really was that most unlikely of oxymorons, a happy teenager. Now, how weird is that?
2. Speaking of love: I was madly in love with the daughter of our town mayor, a crush that lasted for several years. Needless to say, my affection was unrequited - she went on to move to California and marry a millionaire (no, I'm not making this up). Efforts made to impress the target of my youthful affection included, as I remember, drawing countless pictures of horses for her (she liked horses) and firing a paper wad from a rubber-band slingshot that ricocheted off the blackboard mere inches from the English teacher's head. That certainly got me into trouble...
3. Trouble. Maths. Me. More Trouble. Third in my list of head-related moments (and the most irritating) was the treatment bestowed upon me the headmaster of our school who taught maths in Year Nine. So yes, I was the class dunce in arithmetics, no competition. I doubt, however, whether slapping the back of my head repeatedly whenever he was near me and happened not to give a correct answer helped much. "Light rapping of the head increases your thinking ability" was his mantra. For fairness sakes', I fear he simply didn't know better - he was quite an unhappy person prone to bouts of uncontrolled anger and feared by colleagues and pupils alike. And yes, I have forgiven him, so we're okay (he passed a few years ago).

Right, that's all, folks. As far as tagging other people, I'd love to tag a.ndy, but doubt I will be granted the honour of a response. Oh yes, kneecaps, you're tagged, of course. Anyone else please feel free to write a comment, in which case it'd be a pleasure to tag your, err, tail... Cheerio!