When I was four, every time when my dad came home he would go upstairs and do laundry, and I would run down the hallway past the front door and up the stairs. And we had just gotten a new dog, he was a golden doodle and super hyper and his name was Peanut. So anyway one day when I ran down the hallway Peanut decided to chase me and I stopped to turn to the stairs and Peanut didn't stop and he slammed me into the hinge of the front door, and I busted my temple, and my earliest memory is sitting on the kitchen counter staring at me and my dad's hands covered in blood. The End.