My friend (who reads this blog, and saw the pictures yesterday) eyed me strangely.
'Still wishing you had the big hair, Jess?'
I blink-blinked at her. 'Wha?'
She shook her head. 'It's not fair to make your children suffer because you wish the eighties had never stopped, you know.'
What in hell was she on about? I looked at Rosey, playing in her jacket, her little outfit of striped tshirt and pink jeans, her crocs and ponytails. Nothing about her screamed I Am A Child Of The Eighties. No instant mullet, no plastic bracelets. Maybe her jeans were a bit too vividly pink, but the child likes brighter colors, and.....
Her jeans. The ones I'd just cuffed. TIGHT TO HER LEGS.
8 comments:
Oh, Lord.
My biases showed when I was helping my daughter get ready for prom.
I wanted her to look like Cyndi Lauper.
She wanted to look good.
Oh the years of pegged pants.
At least they aren't acid wash jeans with zippers at the ankle.
Ha! That is funny. But hey, if the shoes were jellies and the ponytail were on the side, it'd be so much better, right?
That's too funny!
At least the crocs don't give horrible blisters like the jellies did.
That's wrong? Since when?
A little scary how our minds can linger decades behind our mouths, eh? Unfortunately, my mouth often lags behind my brain, too...
So, what WAS she on about?? In my defense you should know that in the eighties I was knee-deep in small children and operating like a zombie most of the time...Did something exciting happen back then? Did I miss something??
At least she doesn't have "Princess" blazoned across her butt (does she?).
Post a Comment