While recently looking through an old family photo album, I discovered some snapshots that document my younger sister's and my participation in the parade. I'd like to believe that our mother entered us into some sort of annual costume contest, but I have a sneaking suspicion that she just liked to dress up her daughters and show them off at the largest and most well-attended event of the year.
Here I am at age 2 portraying a go-go girl. Yes, I said a GO-GO GIRL.
Here I am at age 3 as a slightly dimwitted old-timey girl.
In case you're wondering where you can purchase those elaborate costumes,
MY MOTHER MADE THOSE DRESSES.
The woman possesses mad sewing skillz.
And here I am at age 4, transformed into a mermaid. You can't see my face, but I'm probably sticking out my tongue at that baby onlooker in the snappy yellow jacket and powder blue pants. Again, my mother and her own two hands created those costumes.
That's my mom in the red coat, by the way, who—had TLC been casting back then for Toddlers & Tiaras—would have kicked the butts of the other stage moms. Then taken their names. Then handsewn a sequined gown and put me in it.
And now you know all you need to know about my early childhood. Except for my knee socks. I'm saving that disturbing post for last.
Dinner last night: hearty halibut chowder