In which I perform awesome feats of daring

One of my earliest memories involves a giant hole. [Totally obvious joke deleted.]

When I was only four or five years old, we were getting ready to move. My parents were young and just getting established so we had already lived in three different houses. This was to be more permanent; my parents were having a house built in a new neighborhood.

One day, after the hole for the basement had been dug, I was on the lot with my Dad. I was in awe of this huge canyon that seemed to me to be very, very deep. I’m certain that if I saw the same hole now, filtered through an adult’s eyes, it would be much smaller.

What happened next is unclear. I don’t remember whether I jumped in or climbed down the ladder. I seem to remember jumping, but the memory is just too fuzzy to be certain. However I did it, I ended up in the hole. There were several men there, probably getting everything ready to pour the cement. After exploring for a while, I decided it was time to return to the surface.

I don’t remember exactly why, but I didn’t want to climb back up the ladder. I think I was scared. So, with no other option, I started to climb straight up the dirt wall. In a few seconds, I was up top. I remember everyone being surprised that I had actually gotten out of the hole without the ladder. I felt like I had climbed a mountain.

I was supremely proud of this achievement for a long time.