I HAD such a lovely photo lined up for this, all chubby cheeks and cute smile, the image of one of my daughters now.
Honest I did.
But it's 30 miles away - in a drawer probably with a picture of Wham and a Smash Hits annual.
I've been tagged by Josie so instead, I plundered Facebook where a classmate had posted this corker of a line-up.
Of course you will have no inkling which one is me. I'm the one with the ridiculous fringe and serious impression, plus equally ridiculous shoes, third from the right in the front row.
You'll notice my kilt is far longer than anyone else's. My mum bought it so I could grow into it. It fell off of course on one memorable occasion to display my bottle green school knickers.
I also remember how much I hated those shoes and how much they squeaked when I walked. I was beside myself with embarrassment having wanted a trendy pair to start big school in. But my mum insisted we shop at Clarks, just as I can be known to sometimes now in the face of my daughters' opposition.
This first year photo gives away nothing of how much like a fish out of water I felt.
I'd taken and passed my Eleven Plus and was one of three children from my junior school to go to a grammar school. My year was the first with boys in it. There were only a few and I liked all of them. Too much. They liked me too at times, perhaps it was to do with my skirt falling off.
But at our school if we as much showed a flash of thigh as we leaned down to pull our socks up, we were taken to task by the headmistress, an imposing lady with a booming Welsh lilt.
So now, when my daughters come home and tell me about fights in the playground, about girls "going after" boys at the age of eight or who's being bullied by whom, it begins to break my heart a little.
I got to study languages and this opened so many doors for me. A group of five of us studied Russian and I was pretty mediocre at it but the teacher was an inspiration and this gave me the opportunity to later live and work in Russia. Not at all what my mum expected.
My school was all about academic achievement and in so many ways I am grateful for the opportunities it brought me, as the first person in my family to go on to higher education.
Even if I do still dream that I'm sitting my finals in Russian tomorrow and I've done no work.
But worse than that, my skirt has fallen off.
Now then, on to my tagee:
You have to try and guess who it is. She's a proper crafty blogger, writes beautifully, sometimes very movingly and plays a mean kazoo. You can click through here if you want to know who it is!
Here she is looking gorgeous as she cuddled up with Rupert in Scarborough and still loves red shoes...
Not so sure about Rupert's mask though. I think that might give me nightmares too.
Can you guess who it is? Find your way to her blog where she’ll post her contribution and name her own tagee soon. All she has to do is include the meme name Young at Heart Photo Album in her post so Tara can follow it as it winds its way through all the lovely blogs out there…