This morning as I was sifting through my photos, I came across these two gems:
1980. My birthday. Im front and center in yellow.
This party was in Columbus Ohio, at Farrells Ice Cream Parlour. The waiters wore barbershop quartet type outfits, and they would bring you a GIANT bowl with an ice cream sundae in it, and everyone would get a spoon and dig in. The theory was that you were supposed to scoop it out and have it in your own bowl...but that never happened. Everyone would just take their utensils and go to town from the same communal ice cream sundae. Oh criminy, can you even imagine doing that now?? I am getting a nervous tick just THINKING about eating after everyone. all those germs and backwash. (Dry heaves commencing in 3...2...1...)
My supremely talented neighbor Margaret Harris (I STILL remember her name) made that Winnie the Pooh cake for me and the girl next to me with the blonde hair and the blue jumper tied at the shoulders was my BFF at the time, and partner in crime, Amy.
At one point Amy and I had matching shag haircuts. yep, that kind of makes us like war buddies in my opinion.
Farrells was my favorite place to go as a kid. I dont think they are still around, except in California.
Such an easy time. I am waxing nostalgic.
Kids these days dont understand, and I dont think they ever will. My childhood was amazing, and my children wont ever have these simple experiences that I did. They dont know what ice cream parlors are, they dont know what it is like to sift through photos..or having to take photos to a lab and have them developed and WAIT for them. They wont know what it is like to have a shag haircut, or bellbottom pants. They wont ever have a chance to play on unsafe playground equipment, or eat communal ice cream with 10 of their friends.
TBT. I feel old.