My memory is strange. And the bane of my husband's life.
I can recall entire scenes word for word after seeing a movie once. I remember many of the essays I wrote while at university, and most of the English texts I read while at high school. I remember lines and songs from the musicals and plays I've been involved in - and not just my own.
If you ask me where we got Ashleigh's outfit, I'll be able to tell you that her nana gave her the jumper for Easter, her grammy gave her the t-shirt for Christmas, her pants were a hand-me-down from her cousin, but that I'm pretty sure they were given to her cousin as part of a set by her aunty for her birthday two years ago, and that her shoes were an accidental gift from BigW that I still feel guilty about, courtesy of their self-service facility and a full trolley.
And, as you can imagine, Cameron loves that I can recite promises made and words said in anger with a click of my fingers.
But ask me where my keys are, where my phone is or where my glasses are, and I'll spend the rest of the day searching... searching... searching...