The memories of your childhood are what you will always hold dearest to you.  Your first crush, your first kiss.  Those are what happensto everyone.  One of my memories probably none else will ever be able to share.

    I was three years old and at the we were living in, basically, a camper.  The reason for living in a camper was some that obvious: we didn't live in one place for more than six months at a time.  The reason for that one.  My father was an on-the-field helicopter mechaninc, and wherever the helicopter went, we went with.  A profession that he has decided to repursue.

    Anyway, we were at the Wagon Box Campground in Story, Wyoning.

    I had just recently figured out how to lock doors and was practing my now-found knowledge on the storm door.  Then I realized another thing "Exactly how do you unlock the door?"  Not want to seem stupid, I decided not to tell my mother that i could not get the door unlocked.

    No less than five minutes later, my mom decided to take me with while she went to mail a few letters and leaves my, not even one year old, baby sister alone in the camper.  Her not realizing that her ildest daughter had locked the door.  She tightly shut the door, therefore, locking her keys along with my sister in the house.

    I, still not wanting to sound stupid, ran to keep up with my mothers walk to the post office that is maybe the distance of a block away from where the camper is on the campground.

    It was such a peaceful, beautiful night that my mind totally forgot about the door, and by the time we got back to the house, it came as a suprise to me too.

    My mother was the best.  She totally flipped out.  She started talking really fast and her voice sounded as if she was going to cry.  From what I cought from Miss Motormouth, was to stay by the door.  She was going to get the manager of the campground.

    She had some man with her that I had never seen before, and they both sat there pondering for awhile on what to do  Seeing that it was not possible to break a window to get in, they decided that I was going to go where likely no one had gone before.

    Now this camper was unique, in a class of it's own, you might say.  On the side opposite of the locked door was part of a wall that folded out in order to make more room in the living roon area.  This part of the wall was called a "Tip-out".

    Well, we pushed in the wall part way and this man hoisted me up to the top.  As i gazed down at my living room, a view most have probably never seen before, I lost my balance and down I fell.  I landed halfway on the couch and halfway onto the floor.  That kind of fall really hurts.

    My mother thought that I had stepped down onto the sewing machine, and then onto the floor.  She told me to quit crying; I could start after I opened the door.

    That is one experience that I will always carry with me.  My sister and I don't get along all that well and this is one thing that I love to bring up, that I'll lock her in the house again and then she turns red and starts yelling at me to shut-up.

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