At 7 years old, I was an Altar Boy ... I definitely knew what was going on at Mass. I was far from unusual.
I have memories from four years of age that my much, much older siblings wish I’d forget!
As I think about it, I do remember being in church with my parents and brothers. Maybe the reason I don’t have specific memories (at 7 yrs. old) is because I just accepted my parents beliefs as being true and our practice of religion as being a natural part of our family life together. Routine.
One of the altar boys serving was the star of our high school basketball team (in a town of 300). He was gangly and well over 6' tall. When he went to stand up after kneeling at the side of the altar, the back of his cassock caught on the heel of his shoe and he stumbled backwards across the sactuary with his arms flailing until he landed on the bench against the wall where Father and the servers sat.
When I looked up to see what our very ancient and stern priest was going to do, he was just standing there behind the altar looking straight ahead with his arms still raised, tears in his eyes, and his face screwed down as tight as he could get it to maintain his composure. And he stayed like that for a minute or two until he could continue.
You'd have to have been there to appreciate it, but that is still one of the funniest moments I can ever remember from Mass. It still makes me laugh when I think about it.