I was about three. There was a craft shop my mom went into for something. I don’t remember what. But I took a shine to a tiny orange pom pom and popped it my pocket (Holy alliteration, Batman!).
My mother knew about it, and when we left the shop and got out to the car, she told me she’d seen me do it, and frog-marched me back to confess to the shopkeeper.
I was mortified. I think that this is why I hate the colour orange, and have no fondness for pom poms.
So this is a First and a confession. Anyone else got a confession or a first?