My friend Heather has very kindly sent me a reminder of why Big Bird came to sing to me for my 40th birthday…
Yes, that’s me in my red t-shirt with shoulder pads, FSU boxer shorts rolled at the waist, Keds and white scrunchy socks. Got to love the 80s for fashion.
I guess some memories are so embarrassing that you just block them out for forever. Or maybe I’m so old now that my brain is addled and looks like swiss cheese. Either way, somewhere in my brain, a hole the size of the moon’s South Pole–Aitken basin, is where this memory should be stored.
I called my mom first thing this morning. Now that I understood why Big Bird was at my 40th, I wanted to know why he was at my 16th.
She explained to me that she was planning some entertainment with my girlfriends for the party. The girls suggested a stripper. She thought Big Bird would be more fitting. Which shows just how different my friends and my mother perceived me at this stage in my life.
Obviously, Big Bird prevailed.
I guess I should thank her, because it would have been mighty awkward for Jack and Ben to watch a stripper show last night.
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That is soooooo funny! That’s great!