If you were at CH's and my wedding, you might remember her as the sassy-genarian who insisted that everybody, including the bride, dance a full 30 minutes before the dancing part of the reception was scheduled to begin. This was because my friend/wedding DJ, Clark, innocently put on "Disco Inferno" after the cake cutting. And because of this, CH and I missed our one opportunity to eat a piece of my wedding cake. I forgave Clark though, because
1.) He deejayed our wedding for free. Hard to complain under those circumstances. Though of course I did a little bit, because I've never met a small act of audacity that I didn't like.
But the other reason I forgave is because...
2.) Clark is white, so he did not know that playing "Disco Inferno" at even a half-black wedding is the equivalent of dropping a dancing H-bomb, in that old black people are powerless to resist its siren call. It's a law of nature, really. But now he knows. Now he knows.
Anywho, Aunt Mildred sent me two pictures of myself on Sunday, one of which was this one of me at age 5. And I wouldn't mention it, except that I haven't seen it in over 11 years and looking at it set off a flood of memories. Here are a few to share:
Me at 5. My pediatrician told me that I was going to be at least 5'7 based on my hand size. I'm only 5'3, I just have weirdly big hands.
This was right before my mother started letting me dress myself -- she got tired of me throwing extreme fits every time she picked something out for me, so she gave me jurisdiction over my clothing choices, which meant I was pretty much a fashion victim from 6 until I finally figured out the art of dressing myself in college. I love that she let me do that, but revisiting this picture, it's a little ironic, because I actually quite like this outfit now and I would totally wear it as an adult.
Also, I should note that the side ponytail is courtesy of a pressing comb, so I got my ears burned to make this picture possible.
Tomorrow: The newborn picture. Hint: There's a mystery afoot.