We’re doing this real fun thing at work–sharing pictures of our younger selves. I am officially classifying it as “real fun” because it sure is making me laugh at myself a lot.
As a toddler I could not stand getting my picture taken, because I knew it meant getting stuffed into a dress. The two ALWAYS came together. In the winter, horror of horrors, it also meant tights.
Consequently, a good portion of my pictures depict one heck of a pissed off little girl.
But–if you took action shots (or I was in pants), it was an entirely different result:
I can’t say that by the time I was in Kindergarten, it was any different.
In this particular instance, I refused to put the tights on and pouted, hunched in a time out.
Because Uncle Frank- a notorious prankster – was visiting, he decided to try and lighten things up a bit by stealing my grandpa’s dress shoes and socks, making me put them on, and snapping a picture as Grandpa combed the house for them.
I didn’t even crack a smile. Not even when Grandpa finally found his dress shoes and socks, and he and Uncle Frank laughed so hard they had tears running down their cheeks.
My grandmother who was also not amused by the commotion, then ordered me to put the tights on or face retribution, (a.k.a., an indefinite hiatus from television).
I did as I was told and skulked all the way to school.
However, on First Grade Picture Day I was emancipated.
Due to an early season blizzard, it was too cold to walk to school in a dress and tights. Problem was, “little ladies” did not wear pants (per Mrs. Nygren, my teacher), so Grandma grabbed my cleanest pair of jeans and let me pull them up as she dropped the dreaded dress over my head.
Do I look smug?
Why of course I do, because not only did I keep my jeans on under that dang dress all day, thanks to the heat getting knocked out, I got to wear them every.single.day. for a whole week straight.