The earliest event in my life that I can remember is when I became stuck in a cupboard. When I was 3 or 4 years old I lived in Oregon. I played in the garage a lot. I would do finger painting and other strange art forms. The garage had a cupboard in it where my toys and supplies were kept. For some unknown reason, probably curiosity, I decided I would hide in the top shelf of one of the cupboards, I squeezed in and shut the doors. When I heard my mom call for dinner tried to get out but I found myself stuck, or at least I thought I was. I yelled for help and my sister came and just laughed. After a few minutes of wiggling I yelled for help once again. One of my parents came out to the garage, saw me stuck, ran back in to the house and in a few moments emerged with a camera. After a quick photograph and a few very helpful hints I finally squeezed out of the cupboard and went to dinner. For a few days afterward most of my nightmares were about me getting stuck forever in very small places. Even now I don't like small places, although I don't have the same petrifying fear that I had then.
I found myself caught,
Or at least that's what I thought.
I yelled for assistance
But all I received was the persistence
of the laugh from my sibling.
After struggling and wiggling
Once more I yelled for relief.
I began to feel some shame.
One of my parents soon came,
But to my grief
They were wielding a Kodak.
After a photo they turned to go back,
I pleaded for aid,
but no attention was paid.
When finally I squeezed out from the cupboard
I was pleased to be free because I was bored.