On Christmas afternoon, my younger children had gone to their father's house to celebrate with him. My oldest son and his wife, along with my mom and her husband, came over for dinner. I had roasted a turkey and made yeast rolls and potato salad (very informal). My son and I decided it would be grand fun to watch old home movies so we dug out the old videotapes and found a VCR to watch them. We laughed and laughed and laughed and then laughed some more.
Seriously, our hair in the very early 90's was big. Like Marge Simpson 'do - the Luxor pyramid in Las Vegas - perm gone crazy big. And for some reason our shirts and my glasses were also overly big. And why was everyone wearing colored socks with their oh.so.stylish Birkenstock sandals?
So we chuckled when my oldest son was about 5 and wouldn't get up out of bed on Christmas morning because he insisted that it was too dark outside and wasn't morning. And we laughed so hard we cried when this same son was in a preschool program sitting in the front row pulling his arms into his shirt and seeming to have some sort of issue with his underwear, constantly adjusting it. Good times.
The next morning my husband sent me a text message. He said he was lucky that my first husband got the duck and he got to marry the swan. What? I'm an ugly duck that turned into a swan?! Seriously. Sigh. Men.
On to the New Year and more video footage that will be hideous in another 10-15 years!