Do You Ever Think That...

...you have been eaten by the Suburban Stuffy Pole in a bad place Bug? Because I do.

I look at my daughter Marshall who as she gets older it becomes evident that she has the same quirky sense of humor that I used to...Bless her heart (those of you southerners will understand the meaning in that sentence.)

She decided last year that she loved cows; she drew them all over everything ...you know, kind of like I did with Beaker…when I used to draw pictures of him in various outfits and come up with names for him like "Malibu Beaker."

Yeah, see? Your NOT Laughing...that is what I mean...only the warped and demented totally get it...In a way it is nice, because we do our fake accents with each other, or pretend to have strange languages where everything has to start with S...and we bond in our own peculiar brand of humor. It makes me happy that she and I can communicate on that level where everyone around us thinks that I have opted to contribute to the delinquency of a minor.

Then I got this article from a friend…and these are guys from High School that I used to pal around with…and I thought…boy they are totally true to themselves…they haven’t changed a bit!

And it made me miss my weird self. I miss playing Russian Gulag Fashion Show with my friend Jen where we were both named Olga and donned flash lights as our most essential apparel. (Please disregard the complete social insensitivity…no harm meant there…just fun)

Some where a midst trying to maintain a lawn, and get my kids to school on time, I have lost sight of that fun person (and by fun I mean slightly off center of normal) that used to go to Dunkin’ Doughnuts and sneak coffee filters, and run our with them on our heads…just because we could…

So my hat is off to my old friends here, who obviously have kept their fun side in tact…and boy, I am envious…

It isn’t that I think that I should enter my school board meetings with a beret and speak to them in a French accent and pretend that I am Crusty Croissant or anything…its just that sometimes, between the meals, nose wiping, floor scrubbing, teaching, and trying to pretend like I am an adult and know what I am doing…I sort of miss that weirdo that used to be weird…just because I could….