I thought this morning for some reason about an incident from my childhood. I was five or six years old and I was at the top of the stairs and for some reason decided to out my wellingtons on. As I did so I fell down the stairs. When I came to the bottom I remember both my father and mother rushing to see what had happened (it must have been a Saturday). I recall sitting at the bottom of the stairs and looking up at them. They were really concerned and were seeking to interpret the signs on my face as to whether I was injured, which I was not. Meanwhile, I was only thinking that I must be in big trouble for playing with my wellingtons on the stairs.
At the same time I remember them looking at my toes and noting that both of my big toe nails grow double (ie split - not because they are damaged but because of a genetic abnormality). It is the first time I remember being aware of this.
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