bumped my toe. This reminded me of the time a horse stepped on my foot, which in turn reminded me of the donkey I once fell from, just like I fell from my bike only last week, when stopping for a duck followed by a line of little ducks, those yellow ones, at which my childhood bully threw stones, because he had a good aim, especially in the winter when he could threw a snowball right in my face from the other side of the street. But I guess I had a pretty good childhood.

Actually, I wouldn't have a problem with my selective memory, if only I had some control over the selection.