Last night we started watching home movies; we couldn’t stop!
Picture gangly 12-year-old girls, at a slumber party, singing karaoke. One of those girls was watching with us last night. Her husband says, “Are you guys singing to Cher?” Haha!
Those slumber parties were the bomb. We’d pull out all the stops: mattresses strewn about, makeup everywhere, pillow fights at midnight, pancakes next morning. Ah. Good times.
Oh, and we watched a couple of their self-scripted plays. I laughed so hard I peed my pants. (TMI.) Man, I’ve got such ammo. If any of these kids I’ve got on film ever crosses me, look out. One in particular had better stay in my good graces; if he ever enters boot camp, all I’d have to do is ship this to his D.I. This kid delivered any line my little daughter wrote for him: “Now I have all the shoes! I will stink things up wherever I please MOO-haha!”
Oh, and the girls in their ridiculous outfits, composed of hand-me-down, cheesy, sequins party blouses. Or the secret signal for Mommy to stop the video, but they’re so dang cute I miss my cue—and they start pantomiming throat-cuts.
Man, I’m glad we had that camera. A Super Shout-out to Bev for talking me into getting that camcorder; and to Jordan for converting my Super 8’s to DVD. You guys ROCK. If not for you, we wouldn’t be reliving chaotic craft days, kooky campouts, and terrific tea parties.
Last night, as Emily and Jeff were heading out, she mentioned how enjoyable it was to watch the movies—but that it was “also kind of sad.” …It seems she’s getting a taste of “Those were the days.” We had such crazy fun, but it was a cavernous decade ago.
So, at coffee this morning I told Dave, “Who says we’re too old for wacky? Next time we have a barbecue, let’s play some relays, crank the tunes, and have a pillow fight!”
I think we should do it.