Favorite Childhood Memories, Not

I was pondering my childhood today. On the whole it was pretty good, even excellent. Then there were the not so favorite memories. Like my first bike ride. Mom and Dad bought me a new bicycle. Daddy stayed outside with me and encouraged me to get on and have a go at it. We didn't do training wheels back then, you got on and did your best. I was cruising, oh yeah, then I made the turn into our driveway, wipeout, the bike and I were a tangled up mess. Did this stop me from getting back on that bike, no way. My sister was babysitting me, I took it into my head to ride 6 miles away to my cousin's house, by then I had mastered the art of bike riding. I got there all right, my aunt called my mother at work to let her know where I was, mom came up promptly after work to get me. I hadn't gotten into enough trouble by just taking off without notice on my bike, no, I had to compound matters with more shenanigans. My cousin and I climbed into my aunt's car, opened up the ashtray and there to our wondering eyes we found cigarette butts. They still had a few good puffs left, so we did the sensible thing, we lit up a butt and were puffing away. Who should happen to appear but good old Mom, my bike and I parted ways for a month. This didn't stop me from giving smoking another chance, after all dad smoked, must be o.k.. Yeah I lit up at home, trouble is I was always getting caught, only this time I was encouraged to smoke or should I say made to smoke the whole cigarette, oh man, I got sick, threw up, alot. I am convinced that in my grown up years, when I decided to give smoking another shot, I could never get addicted to cigarettes, it was that bad throwing up memory burned into my sub concious that eventually convinced me to forego smoking.