My dad had a friend called Dave Firth who was totally bald. He came to my house around the time that I started nursery, maybe just before, and upon noticing his baldness I remarked "Dad, why hasn't that man got any hair on?". I remember saying that, but not his reaction. He eventually decided to have a hair transplant. Anyway, a few years later, I saw him again with the transplant and said out loud "Hello Dave, I didn't know you with hair on. You know, you looked better when you were bald".

When I was also aged about four, I was in a cafe and I spilled some pop on my trousers. I went into a screaming rage and steadfastly refused to wear the trousers which the pop had fallen on. As a result I had to be bought a new pair. I don't remember that though.

I apparently used to throw my clothes off in the garden and go down the street in my pedal car stark naked!! Someone once told my parents I was round the block, sat in my pedal car with no clothes on. Full Monty many years before its time! I would be aged four or five when this occurred.

Aged about five, I wouldn't let anyone cut my hair and would wear Wellington boots all the time. I would even go to bed and try to sleep in those items of clothing. I always used to wear a blue hat, and wouldn't let anybody take it off me. Predictably, if anyone tried to stop me from wearing them I would have a temper tantrum.

I remember seeing an old black and white film and thinking to myself 'I am glad I live now with the world in colour. I bet it was awful when the world was in black and white like it was in those days. You wouldn't have been able to look at all these colours we have now. Think of what they missed out on'. I actually used to think the world was in black and white and later changed to colour at some point in the 20th century.

I used to have an obsession about spinning wheels and used to watch the TV programme "Name That Tune" hosted by Tom O'Connor. I can still picture it in my mind now and hear the noise it used to make. My late uncle (He married my Mum's sister in 1956, died of Pancreatic Cancer in May 1990) knocked a metal bar through two pieces of wood and stuck a wheel in the middle. I used to play with it for hours, just spinning it repeatedly.

At Christmas 1981, my dad's younger sister, Elaine, and her future husband to be, Gary stayed with my parents. In fact they were not to marry until April 1996. They stayed with my parents from late November 1981 to early March 1982. There was a notable white Christmas that year. I remember being in the back of Gary's car with me and my dad. Another driver wrongly pulled out on us, causing us to brake. I asked "Wasn't that man naughty?". Apparently that winter, I stressed their pet Cockatiel out, and he pecked all his feathers out, caused by myself going up to the cage constantly. I feel regret over that. He was a beautiful bird. Charlie was called "Percy" beforehand. For some reason, I called him "Charlie", and that name stuck until he died in 1999.

Around the same age I used to have a thing in which I would say "Six minutes". I think I got this from the saying, "Give me five minutes".

I remember being at the York railway museum when I was six. You had to be five or under to get in for free. This man asked my mum how old I was. She answered, "Five" to which I replied, "No I'm not, I am six". We had to pay to get in.

I had never heard of this saying before so I replied straight-faced "Abracadabra". The whole class erupted in loud laughter. I couldn't understand why everyone was laughing. I looked to see if something funny had happened behind me. That's what I thought they were laughing at. The teacher glared at me angrily, obviously thinking I was trying to be funny. I was asked again and I said, "It works". They all laughed again. She kept asking me for about 15 minutes until I finally said "Please". As young as I was, I felt totally and utterly humiliated, and resented it.

I also remember in Infant school when the school's pianist, Mrs Gibbs, retired. We all had to go up to her and give her a kiss but I didn't want to. I did in the end though.

On Saturday, 18th June 1983 there was a family wedding and I was there. A waiter accidentally spilled some milk over me whilst I was sat at a table eating and I cried out "That milk has gone down my skull!".