See that gaggle of little children in the photo? It consists of me and my five siblings (I'm the extremely well-fed baby in the middle). Having six children in eight years either puts my mother in line for sainthood or the loony bin, and I'm sure during the years of raising us all she had moments of leaning toward both.
The order of our family goes boy-girl-boy-girl-boy-girl... the doctors told my mom after my brother Steve was born that she should think about maybe not having anymore children. But as she tells it, she informed them that she needed one more little girl to finish off the pattern. As grateful as I am, that might have been a loony bin moment. :)
Standing in the "train" pose ... we have lots of these kind of photos.
You can imagine why, looking at the photo above, we were able to relate to the Brady Bunch at a deep level. Although it didn't happen until later in life, I even completed the story by being the youngest one in curls. (I never, for the record, had a lisp like Cindy. The curls were our only similarity.)
The other television show that was a staple for us kids growing up was Lawrence Welk. We'd all gather around the television on Friday nights to watch the bubbles surround Lawrence as he declared all things to be, "Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful." When my brother Steve started playing the clarinet, my parents' motivation for him was to tell him that if he practiced enough maybe he, too, could have a clarinet with gold buttons like the dude in the Lawrence Welk orchestra.
Apparently that wasn't quite enough incentive to practice, as his clarinet dreams didn't last very long.
My favorite part? When Lawrence would announce that a-Bobby and a-Sissy were about to perform. Oh, those two "modern dancers" were exactly who I wanted to be someday. Spiffy, those two were.
So, that was our Brady Bunch moment. Every Friday night we would match up with our closest sibling and dance to Lawrence Welk. Jerry/Laura, Jim/Janette, Steve/Me ... dancing our little hearts out.
Yeah, that's right. You heard me. We freaking danced to Lawrence Welk. Every Friday night. And no one made us... WE LIKED IT. And we're all really pretty good dancers now. But the point is, we lived a life that made the Brady Bunch look scandalous.
Ahh... the good old days. :)