Isn’t this just the cutest picture? It’s scanned and totally crooked (I only say this because I feel the need to defend myself considering I live with a photographer.) and it just cracks me up every time I see it.
My mom used to cut my bangs. Can you tell? She cuts bangs like she sings.
(*waving* Hi, mom!)
My youngest sister has a Band-Aid on her forehead because she ran into a table or something. She’s actually laughing even though it looks like she’s crying. My middle sister was always such a little princess. She used to wear MY patent-leather Mary-Jane’s to play in and kept hers in the closet so they’d still be “pretty.” Biotch!
Me? Well, check out the bed-head. I’ve come full circle. Check out those cat-eyes. I was so not cool. I’ve worn glasses since I was 22 months old. I think that’s a POW bracelet I have on but I’m not sure. I remember having one but don’t know if I had it when I was this young.
My grandmother used to make our Easter, Christmas, and I can’t remember what else outfits. This looks like it might be Christmas ’cause all of the dresses are red. It was always like pulling teeth to get me to wear a dress. I actually like wearing them now. It’s the nylons I can’t stand.
I can’t believe I’m holding a dolly. I hated playing with dollies. Oh, the things I used to do to my Barbie and Ken! I was one of those kids who had tons of plastic horse statues. It pissed me off that ol’ Barbie had those straight, inflexible legs and she just had no purpose in my play-life unless she could ride. So… after I got a chemistry set for Christmas (What in the hell were my parents thinking?) I first made Ken into a burn victim with my handy-dandy Bunsen burner. He was constantly being attended to by those little green plastic army dudes. He lived in a cave and would forever be at the mercy of the experimenting scientists. I still say it’s actually a good thing he wasn’t anatomically correct.
Then, I put Barbie on the hot seat and melted her legs so she became the very first version of a character Barbie: “Bowlegged Barbie.” Finally, the bwitch was functional other than dry-humping poor ol’ “Burn-Victim Ken.” I also gave her a haircut so I guess you could actually call her “Bowlegged Lesbian Barbie.” There’s something kinda wrong with that, though.
I was looking at the boys tonight as we were all eating dinner. Youngest is now taller and bigger than middle child and oldest has lost weight (he used to be pudgy) since we’ve moved here. I blame his loss of weight on his teacher’s constant nagging about good nutrition. He has a very good diet; we hardly ever eat junk. However, he’s taken to eating smaller portions as he’s now “watching” his weight. WTF?
None of these boys are as clever as I was in my youth. (Or so I thought I was in my own mind. HA!) I drove my mom nuts by smashing flower petals and making “Indian Dye.” I, um, borrowed a few of her sheets and executed my first attempts at Batik. It was really cool and I wished I had white t-shirts so I could make myself a “hippy-shirt” and wear it with my hideously brown-with-yellow-flowers bellbottoms. Alas, I knew she would kill me if I used one of my white catholic school uniform shirts. Besides, that would have been totally dumb. I would also pick the fruit that grew in our backyard (figs, lemons, almonds [technically a nut], blackberries, and three different kinds of plums), smash it up, and then bury it in baby food jars. Just in case. Of what, I totally have no idea. Nuclear war? (STOP! DROP! AND ROLL!)
No, these boys just break stuff; they don’t make stuff. The only things they’ve ever made were paper airplanes. After a few feeble attempts, I ended up folding all of the papers for them. I don’t know what the differences are that they don’t seem to have the same level of imagination I had when I was a kid. I can only blame Nintendo. Oh, and, well, maybe the fact that I wouldn’t dare to buy them a chemistry set or let them within ten miles of matches/lighters. They do have two telescopes, binoculars, each has a camera (duh; that’s a no-brainer in this house), and lots of art supplies. Play-doh is forbidden ’cause it gets eaten or stuck to the rugs, walls, dogs, beds; you name it. Just the other day, Dman took a red marker and drew all over both storage sheds, the outside walls, and all over the patio furniture.
I. Could. Have. Killed. Him.
They ask for stories about my youth all the time. I haven’t told them about Barbie, Ken, Batik, Bunsen Burners, and Iron Pyrite.
Hey, I’ve learned a thing or two about a thing or two since I was 11. I’ve learned even more since these boys moved in with me. I may share these stories with them once they are say…. 45.
Hopefully, they’ll be living on their own by then.
Filed under: bangs, family, humor, imagination, kids
Love the bangs
You were a terror as a child. I can only hope you’ve mellowed some in recent years LOL
I think you need to invest in some washable markers and paints…
I think your glasses are adorable..and I think you should revisit that style..hee hee.
I remember my haircuts my mom gave us…..egads!
I’m glad your old bawdy self is back..I’ve missed her!
Love ya!
Carmen
cap: I may have mellowed but I’m still a terror. I simply direct that energy onto the kids now. lol
Carmen: I have a picture (which you will never, ever see) of me in a pair of dark brown cat-eye glasses, blue polyester pants, a polyester blue and white blouse with little yellow owl’s all over it, and a very funky faux-fur, floor length coat. I don’t look nearly as silly as my little sister who is wearing a multi-colored beanie-cap. It was the 70’s… a terrible time in fashion. My mom wasn’t actually that bad at cutting bangs. We just never sat still long enough for her to get a good line going. I’ve done the same thing to the boys. Poor “G”… one time I accidentally cut a hole in the back of his hair. He never knew… lol
Fabulous picture of you and your sisters! My mom was also not very good at cutting bangs–she took too long and we’d get ansty. Of course, the truly bad job (of which there is plenty of photographic proof because it was right at the holidays) is when I decided to cut my own bangs at 11. I kept going, trying to get them straight eventually stopping when they were about 1/2 inch long. I blame my older sister–I’d asked her to help me but she wouldn’t stop talking on the phone and do it.
That picture is so cute.
Great picture and great blog! I think you have something there. Kids aren’t as resourceful as we were as kids. I think all of today’s gagetry dulls their brains. We had 20 inches of snow last night. Not happy now that I want spring. And by the way……remember Hilary is my Senator……so be careful. She will make a good President won’t she? You take care. Bittersweet
you can take heart that anybody else growing up in the 60’s/70’s had a similar cut to their fringe [bangs]…I know I bloody well did.
But it could have been worse I could have had my brothers haircut from her. heh.
That’s a sweet picture.
I think just about any tomboy girl growing up who was forced to play with dolls cut the hair in a “soft butch” style… Don’t think my sister was amused when I cut hers too!
My only saving grace to having to play with dolls is the Steve Austin doll. He was awesome!! Right up until I dropped him from a tree and his leg snapped off. I lost interest in him when he dropped down to the $6,789.97 dollar man.
Silly, that was not an MIA bracelet. It was one of mine. I gave it to you because I rarely wear bracelets. I still don’t but some people keep giving them to me! Everyone knows that you girls were the most beautiful children on God’s planet. You weren’t a terror, you simply had spunk..and still do.
And, by the way, Miss Smarty-pants, I’ll have you know that I sound really good when I sing in my car…especially when I harmonize with the new Dixie Chicks CD you gave me..”Not Ready to Make Nice.” Of course I’m careful to make sure the windows are rolled up and the doors locked.
Oh gosh, I’m having flashbacks to my childhood AND seeing ahead to La’s coming years! I was not a doll person much, but I loved torturing my Barbie and Kens, TJ’s GI Joe and Steve Austin dolls. We had the Barbie airplane, cars, townhouse…all the cool stuff…and we mostly used it as the settings for War Games and burglary break-ins…with hostages.
After 5 little girls who all loved their dollys (we have 9 left over from Libby’s years of playing with them still!) I now have a girl-child with no interest in dolls whatsoever. She throws them. And growls. She’d rather have sticks, cars, water play or simply wrestle her family to the ground.
And if its an indicator that she’ll grow up to be half the cool person you are…I’ll be blessed and happy to take it. I’m keeping her FAR away from the computer and PS2. Viva la’s imagination!
Blessings all over ya!
oh my lord. you look so MISCHIEVOUS in this picture! i bet at the exact moment that pic was being taken you were thinking about making that dollie a burn victim! i bet you were!
Sweet glasses, Miss Natalie! This is priceless.