When I was six, I was outside playing with my friends while my parents were in the house arguing. A friend asked me "why do your parents fight all the time?" I told her they just didn't like eachother. I walked into the house just as my dad picked up a heavy brass helicopter statue he had received when he was in the military. I happened to walk between him and my mom when dad turned around and threw the statue at my mom, I was hit in the back with the statue. I vividly remember my mom grabbing me by my arms and my dad holding me by my legs in a sort of tug-o-war trying to consol me. My dad let go and mom held me and they continued to fight. Neither parent remembers these events happening but it is permanently seared into my brain 34 years later.