If you can answer these 7 questions about your childhood home, your memory is sharper than 80% of people

We all love a good “how’s your memory?” test, right?

Not because we’re trying to win a trophy, but because memory is weirdly personal.

It’s the closest thing we have to time travel.

One second you’re answering emails, the next you’re back in a hallway that no longer exists, staring at wallpaper you haven’t seen in decades.

Here’s the fun part: Your childhood home is basically a memory gym.

It’s packed with details your brain once treated as background noise: Door handles, floorboards, the exact spot you dropped your backpack, and the smell of the kitchen at 6pm.

If you can pull up those details without major effort, that usually points to something psychologists call strong episodic memory (memories tied to lived experience) plus solid spatial memory (your internal map system).

Stress, trauma, moving a lot, or simply not thinking about a place in years can blur details, but if you can answer most of these seven questions with ease, your recall is probably sharper than the average person who hasn’t visited those memories in a long time:

1) The front door

If I dropped you in front of your childhood home, what did the front door look like up close?

Was it wood or metal? Painted or plain? Did it have a peephole? A knocker? One of those chain locks that made you feel oddly safe?

Here’s the detail most people forget: What did it sound like when it closed?

I’m asking because the front door is a “high frequency” memory.

You used it constantly, but you rarely stared at it like it was art.

If you can recall it anyway, it means your brain stored the everyday stuff.

Picture your hand reaching for the knob: Which hand was it? Did the knob feel cold? Sticky? Smooth? Was there a key that always got stuck?

That mix of visual, touch, and sound is a great sign your memory is sensory.

If you’re struggling, don’t force it and give your brain a cue.

2) The hallway map

Can you walk from the front door to the kitchen in your mind, step by step, without teleporting?

Most people remember rooms like snapshots.

Stronger memory tends to remember routes, so do this slowly: You open the front door, and what’s immediately to your left? To your right? How many steps until the first turn? Was there a rug that always bunched up? A table you bumped into?

This is your brain’s internal GPS, the cognitive map that helps you navigate space.

When it’s working well, you can “move” through a familiar place even if you haven’t been there in years.

Don’t aim for perfection, but aim for movement.

The act of mentally walking often unlocks details you didn’t know you remembered.

3) The kitchen smell

When you walked into the kitchen, what did it smell like most days?

Smell is memory’s shortcut.

It goes straight to the emotional center of the brain, which is why one whiff of something can smack you with a full-body flashback.

What was your kitchen’s baseline scent?

Maybe it was dish soap, coffee, fried onions, garlic, that forever mystery smell coming from under the sink, ripe bananas on the counter, or the sharp tang of vinegar when someone cleaned.

For me, this kind of question always surprises people because is about atmosphere, and atmosphere is harder to fake, which makes it a sneaky test of real recall.

If you can pull up a smell, notice what else arrives with it: A time of day? A person? A feeling in your chest?

That’s the memory network doing its thing.

One sensory node lights up, then the rest of the web follows.

4) Your bedroom window view

What did you see when you looked out your bedroom window?

This one is a goldmine because it combines space, routine, and emotion.

Did you face a street? A backyard? Another building so close you could practically read their mail? Was there a tree you watched change through seasons? Could you see the sky, or was it mostly fences and rooftops?

Here’s the bonus detail: What did the light look like in your room in the morning? Bright and harsh? Soft and filtered? Did it hit your bed directly and wake you up?

If you can answer this, you’re tapping into contextual memory, the “where” layer that wraps around experiences.

If you can’t, that’s okay.

Some bedrooms were more “sleep storage unit” than sanctuary.

Still, even a vague memory counts: “I think I faced the neighbor’s wall” is still a memory.

5) The floor and the feet

What did the floors feel like under your feet, and where did they change?

This sounds random until you try it.

Was it carpet that left lines on your legs when you sat down? Tile that stayed cold even in summer? Wood floors that creaked in a specific spot?

Can you remember where the flooring changed, like carpet to tile at the hallway, or tile to linoleum in the kitchen?

This question works because your brain stores a lot of movement-based memory without you realizing it.

Your feet knew the house.

If you can recall these textures, you’ve got strong embodied memory, the kind that’s linked to physical experience.

It’s also why, years later, you can still walk through a dark room without crashing into everything.

Your body remembers patterns.

6) The night sounds

Question: When you were in bed at night, what did you hear?

The normal stuff: A refrigerator hum? Pipes? Dogs barking in the distance? A parent watching TV with the volume just low enough to be annoying? Motorcycles on the road? Crickets? Rain hitting a window AC unit?

This is another test of sensory detail, but it also reveals something else: Emotional safety.

If you remember night sounds clearly, it can mean those sounds were part of your comfort system.

Familiar noise tells the brain, “This is home. Nothing is wrong.”

Even if your home life was complicated, the brain still anchors to patterns.

If night was stressful for you as a kid, you might remember fewer details here, or you might remember them too well.

Either way, your memory is responding to meaning.

If you get one sound, follow it.

Ask yourself, “What did I do when I heard that?” That question often unlocks the scene.

7) The object you could find with your eyes closed

What’s one object in your childhood home you could locate instantly, even with the lights off?

This could be the light switch near your room, the snack cabinet, the spot where the cups were kept, the squeaky stair, or the exact shelf where someone hid the “good” treats.

If you can name an object and its location quickly, that’s a sign your memory is procedural and spatial, tied to action.

I like this question because it also reveals what mattered to you.

Kids become experts at whatever they care about.

Some people remember the TV remote’s hiding place like it’s sacred scripture, others remember where the art supplies lived, while the rest remember the drawer where batteries were stored because they were the designated flashlight finder during power outages.

Yes, I’m going to say it: If you remember where the snacks were, you were resourceful.

Final thoughts

How many did you answer without having to squeeze your brain like a lemon?

If you got five or more with solid detail, that’s a strong sign you’ve got above-average recall for everyday childhood context.

If you got fewer, it might just mean that home didn’t stick as a mental landmark, you’ve had a lot happen since then, or you haven’t revisited those memories in a long time.

Either way, you can sharpen this skill.

Here are a few simple ways to do it without turning your life into a homework assignment: Practice gentle retrieval, pick one question a day about your childhood home, and spend 60 seconds on it.

Sometimes memory opens doors to warm nostalgia, while sometimes it opens doors to complicated stuff.

Both are valid and, if you want a tiny challenge, try answering all seven again next week.

Most people are shocked by what shows up the second time around.

Which question was easiest for you and which one made you go, “Wait, why can’t I remember that?”