Flashback Friday: In which I return to my bread 'n' butter

I have been told that my kid stories are my bread and butter.


However, these comments come from a variety of people that (*ahem*) choose not to (*cough*) "join a blog" as though I have in some way attempted to recruit them into the proverbial communist party.

Or, to make it politically relevant, socialist party; pick your poison. (Poison? Matter of opinion, again. Ever been to a socialist country, ye who proclaim it cometh nigh? I have. Good ole Americer don't resemble one in the least, nor will it in 4 short years. Promise.)


So, for the record, creating a username so that you may comment & express your particular delight over a post does not constitute a change in party affiliation. Promise. And while today I return to ye old bread & butter, tomorrow you may not be so lucky. :) (I mean, really. I couldn't even avoid political diversion and analogy for one flippin' post. Take heed.)

Back to B'n'B...


Today's flashback is made up of a few photos, one of which was taken 30 years ago (eek) and one of which was taken yesterday.


Me, age 2-ish, Atlantic Beach, NC near Uncle Chip's beach motel, I think. Correct or corroborate me, Mom.

Whether this was a set-up or not, my parents aren't saying. Regardless, it has become a catch-phrase for my family, though I swear I don't make this face anymore. Much.


But my youngest girlie does. Frequently. And always in conjunction with a banned activity, such as touching my computer, as seen below. She timidly wiggled the mouse, caught my eye, grinned a la "keep off the grass" and while she held my eye, wiggled the mouse again.

Daredevil. Remorseless heathen.

This is the face of the child that silently climbs on the counter, tears open a box of cookies as though a rabid squirrel got into the kitchen, eats her fill, replaces the box, and denies it ever happened.







Jady-jade-jade. The girl who named her new stuffed puppy not Blackie, Snowball, Fluffy or Puppy as most 3 year olds would, but who immediately smirked "Donk-a-doo-doo" at us when asked what she would call it. "Donkey-doo-doo?" we replied, hesitantly smiling, and silently hoping she would not take this puppy out in public and call for it. "DONK-a-doo-doo!" she crowed, unapologetically noting our raised brows.


So Flashback Friday is dedicated to the child I once was, and may still be, but certainly bequeathed directly down the line. Betcha I know where it came from in the first place.

And if you want to bet to, guess you'll just have to daringly join the party & leave a comment. Heh.