I only have a few memories of when you were born, and not surprisingly, they all revolve around me:
1. I loved drinking mom's prune juice. For her it was relief from the nasty things you did to her insides. For me it was yummy brown juice.
2. I played with my Lite-Brite the night you were born. "Yeah, yeah, I get a baby sister, but look at this flower!!"
It wasn't until you started walking and making real words that I started forming what I would call fond memories.
Like dancing around the living room in our underwear to Psalty the Singing Songbook records.
Remember Psalty? And his daughters Melody and Harmony?
Remember records?? Yeah, me neither.
We built forts out of our bunk beds, made mud tacos (thanks to the strong Mexican influence in Southern California), and tried to rig a bathroom in the red wagon out of funnels, Tupperware and cardboard boxes for those long treks from one side of the backyard to the other.
I was your interpreter when everything you said sounded like, "I poopie dada jump on broccoli," or swear words.
By the way, you're welcome for not telling them you were actually swearing.
We played in the bathtub with toys, soap crayons, and our imaginations. We crafted bubble beards and clothing and made a game out of "find the turd" when Kimberlie finally joined us.
You've been a good little sister, and to reward you I will not post your 6th grade, pre-braces picture. You know, the one with your buck-teeth and eyes, nose and mouth too big for your head.
Yeah, I said you were good. But not good enough to not give the people a hilarious mental picture.
I'm still not over you eating my Lite-Brite pegs.
3 comments:
Please tell me you didn't actually use my tupperware as a toilet!!! Love Mom.
Just another comment...I believe you learned how to breastfeed your babies when she was born!!! You're welcome!
Hahahaaaa!!! Ew.
And, no. I did not pee in your Tupperware. I never quite got the flushing mechanism to work. You're welcome!
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