Formative childhood experience

When I was in elementary school, we had to make timelines of our lives. We were supposed to put important events on it. On it, I had my birth, the births of each of my sisters, and the time I got my head stuck. I think that is the single most important event of my life.

This happened back when I lived in Park Slope, in Brooklyn. I was five or six years old at the time. At the synagogue I went to, they had this great playground. You could go on it for hours, and you'd end up incredibly dusty by the end, because it's not like they had grass or anything. Just dust. I also played some pretty intense handball games there. They also had this fantastic jungle gym swingset thingamabobber, with this long metal slide that used to heat up in the sun to the point where our little Jewish behinds would fry. Holding up the set were these long wooden square post type things. On each side they had a couple spaced very closely together, not enough space to slip in between, but just enough to put your head in. Barely. Being the young, adventurous soul I was, I decided to do just that. But I couldn't get it out. I yelled for help, or maybe someone just noticed me, and they got a little pink chair for me to sit in. My dad stuck his head out the window, as someone had told him that my head was stuck. It was a really big event. The Rabbi, I think even, came outside. People offered tips: "Try wiggling it!," "If you got in you have to be able to get out," until someone ran down with some soap. that didn't help, but my head got a nice wash. Eventually, they called the fire department, and the firemen used the jaws of life to pry the bars apart, and I was free!

Not only has this affected me, it has affected those around me. My sister, who is seventeen months younger, says this is her first memory. The synagogue eventually took the swingset down, though that could also be because of Jew-ass flambe.

Even better than all this, though, is that people at the synagogue still remember. on the occasions we go back there, once or twice a year, inevitably, someone whose name i won't know will come up to me.

"Joshie!"

"Heeeeey!!"

"How is Connecticut?"

"Uh, we actually live in New Jersey now."

"Oh riiiight, your mother was telling me about that. Oh my, you've grown so much. I remember when you were up to my hip. You used to get in the funniest situations. I'm sure you don't remember the time when the fire department had to come and rescue you?"