Memories
One of my earliest childhood memories was the rare occasion when my parents would let the three of us (Wendy, Rick, me) have money for the ice cream truck, which would typically cruise through the neighborhood around 4:00. The time I remember most was running out the back door to follow my siblings as they ran to the spot on the road where the truck could pull over (Stadley Rough Road was STUPID narrow). They ran down those horrible metal "fire escape" stairs, and I tripped. I remember the world turning completely upside down, and somehow I ended up with just a bad scrape on my arm.
I wasn't lightly scolded and then comforted and then told to make it a learning situation, I was yelled at.