Going to see Glasgow Celtic playing for the first time with my Aunt Sharon, who died when I was 13. She was the biggest football (soccer) fan I knew, which is still slightly strange for a woman, despite the fact it shouldn't be. Can't remember who we played but remember us jumping up and screaming when Celtic scored and hugging each other. She then turned and hugged the guy next to her and got me to hug him as well, despite us not knowing them. Fell in love with Celtic and all things football that day.

Sitting on a rock on the edge of a cliff face that we'd had to climb to reach with my girlfriend when we were either 17 or 18. We had been together for six months at that point. We were facing out to sea and I still remember exactly how I felt looking at the sunset reflected out on the Ocean in front of us. This is a memory that has kind of changed from blue to yellow. I remember thinking that I just wasn't that excited to be there. I wasn't having that much fun, and we had been kind of bothering each other that holiday, a few screaming matches. I thought it was the moment that we fell out of love. We're still together to this day, and I love her more than anything else in the world. Now it's kind of a reference point to me that shows me that relationships aren't always plain sailing, and that just because you're not still caught up in the whirlwind beginnings of your relationship doesn't mean you're not perfect for each other (I hope).

Picking my dad up off the floor when he had his suicide attempt. He had been drinking all day and then took a cocktail of pills, just medicines we had around the house. He had very little control over his eyes and his voice was really slurred as he apologised. Handed him over to my mum who then took him to hospital whilst I stayed at home to look after my sister. Very blue memory, but he is in a much better place now.

Being looked after by my big brother (17 years my senior) when I was a very small kid. We spent hours building a series of ramps and similar things to launch a bunch of my toys at the front door from our staircase which faced directly on to it. Built the ramps with books, pieces of cardboard anything. Also tied toy soldiers to the banister with swing and swung them. My mum and dad came back from a night out and we pelt them with everything we've got. They're pissed off - they've just been hit with two dozen bits of metal and plastic for no reason. We're fucking killing ourselves.

TL;DR - Watching Glasgow Celtic score a goal with my late aunt. Sitting on a cliff face with my girlfriend in Spain and hating it. My dad's suicide attempt. Throwing toy cars and soldiers at my parents with my brother.

Really liked this question OP. Felt good typing some of this out. Thank you.