The best day of my life was in the summer of 1992. I was 12, and it was little league season, and I pitched a 1 hit shutout of the vaunted Yankees team. In 7 innings, I struck out 12, and hit a triple off the fence. The coach wrote all the stats on the ball and gave it to me. It's still in a box in my closet. Most significant days (weddings, births of children) can't really called the greatest because there is so much stress associated with them. At age 12, nothing is stressful. I'm pretty sure we finished the day with a team sleepover, and ate Otter Pops until the wee hour of midnight.
The Worst day of my life was my grandpa's funeral. I wrote this awesome eulogy for him, but I knew I wouldn't be able to read it, so my mom did it for me. I was all sobbing in the third row, and some distant cousin gave me a kleenex and it smelled like old lady perfume. Crying uncontrollably into an old lady perfume kleenex. Bad, bad day.