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I am who I am who I was who I am.
I’m worried that when comes time for my children to reflect on their childhoods, they’ll be at the mercy of inconsistent, unreliable digital devices instead of a good ol’ book full of memories. Throwback Thursday has been an excellent exercise in arm flexing (through old photos, albeit of myself) and consequently remembering forgotten details of my childhood, like this one, from a December vacation in 1995 to Aruba with my parents and two brothers (the third was still a mere twinkle in my mother’s eye.) My guess is that I am yelling something along the lines of, “Mooooooooom! Get me cream cheese for my rolls!” Frankly, it’s a wonder I waited 18 years to cut my hair like that again. But I think the real importance here functions as a testament to my unshakeable demeanor–clearly, I’ve always been (or since ’95, at very least) certifiably ridiculous and though photos no come with noise, quite loud, too.
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