I watched Mr. Holland's Opus (not ashamed to say I love it) a few nights ago and thought of you. Do you remember the part where they are auditioning students for the Gershwin revue and we named all the people who reminded us of McHi Singers? Well, I thought of that and I was laughing.
Out loud.
Holding my sides.
Tears running down my cheeks.
All by myself.
Like a crazy person.
Anyway, for some reason, that led to me thinking of the following little beauty:
Firecracker (clap under knee), firecracker (clap under knee),
Boom, boom, boom (shake hips).
Firecracker (clap under knee), firecracker (clap under knee),
Boom, boom, boom (shake hips).
The boys got the muscles (Popeye arms).
The teachers got the brains (point to head).
The girls got the sexy legs (run hands from ankle to thigh)
And we won the game (herky)!
And on we go:
Do you even remember the elementary school car pool with Sister H?!?! Of course you do. That is something no one could ever forget. Unless you sustained too many head injuries in the process. Which is entirely possible. But do you remember the falling out of our seats whenever she took a really fast turn? Or flying from the back seat to the front seat whenever she braked? (Seat belts, people! I'm just saying.) Or trying to find our backpacks when we finally (!) arrived home alive, because who knows where they may have ended up on the journey?
But, lest we forget, the all-time classic of her not really stopping, but just rolling through the school parking lot so we had to run to the van and throw our bags into the open door and then jump in after them?
It just makes me think of how, according to ALL movies, no one ever made their trains on time in the 1940s. You know, the ladies running next to a train pulling out of the station, grabbing the little side-handle-bar-thingy, jumping onto the step, the conductor grabbing them by the other hand, pulling them on board just in the knick of time . And then, they would turn and look at their companion with this, "Phew, we made it" kind of look, straighten their feather-plummed hats, smooth down their skirts, get their tickets punched, and head off to the club car for a stiff drink.
That, my dear sister, was us in elementary school.
Except for the stiff drink part.
Did we have a weird childhood or what?!
Just wondering,
Your little sister
5 comments:
Nice post. My sister is 10 years older than me. We didn't experience anything together as young children; we're doing it now, as adults.
Thanks for your comment at my blog. You have a headstrong one too, eh? I have lots of ideas (we thinks like "toy time out" but put it somewhere she can see it!!) I have a million of them. I am lucky to have a few good friends that have walked this "headstrong girl" path a year ahead of me.
I find that when she knows I am in charge...she can relax and then she behaves better. Strange. :-)
I love that you write about your sister. I have 5!!
Girl from TX: Welcome. Although my profile says I currently reside in ID, I am actually a girl from TX, too. Nice to meet another one.
bek: Aren't you secretly glad to have a headstrong girl? I know it will do her good as she grows up. Even if it will be a challenge for me. Her latest: whenever I tell her it's time to come do something she doesn't want to do (brush teeth, clean up, etc), she looks at me over her shoulder and says, "Um....that's a no." I just can't take it.
Dear Little Sister,
We had an awesome childhood, from what I remember (too many head injuries from riding in Sis. H.'s van). Just kidding. I remember running to catch the van with excitement and dread all at the same time. There were days when you thought you might not make it out alive. Seriously.
Thanks for the trip down memory lane!
Your big sister.
P.S. Mr. Holland's Opus rocks.
[bleached-blonde hair, low-rider pant wearing sorority girl voice/]
SISTERS!!!!
[bleached-blonde hair, low-rider pant wearing sorority girl voice/]
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