I was somewhere between the ages of seven and ten when I initially thought I first saw Jurassic Park. Having loved dinosaurs for as long as I could remember (I'd even decided several years prior that I wanted to be a paleontologist when I grew up), I was enjoying the experience immensely. But as the film went on, something kept bugging me: an oddly vivid memory of my two-year-old self watching a movie scene of several raptors stalking people in a big, dark kitchen. Finally, I reached the point where the movie felt like it was going to begin wrapping things up, and I dejectedly told myself that this must not be the same film, and I might just have to go on with the rest of my life without ever seeing that scene again or even knowing what movie it was from. Which, of course, just increased my joy all the more when the kids were followed into the kitchen by a pack of raptors in the very next scene, quenching my curiosity of my earliest memory and explaining why I loved dinosaurs so much simultaneously. First memories don't get a whole lot better than that in my book.