Take a Sad Song and Make It Better

Last night we were on the way home from dinner (just me, my mom, and my brother…my sister had to work and my dad had a meeting―on my birthday! Miscreants! :-D) and were listening to my new Beatles CD. No, I didn’t get the re-mastered mono box set *sob* *sob* but I did get #1 which has all of their number one hits. (Can you believe that Twist and Shout, I am the Walrus, and Sergeant Pepper weren’t #1 hits?) Anyway, Hey Jude came on and Mom, who had been singing along with nearly every song (I never knew that she knows the lyrics to so many Beatles songs!) told us how her swing choir danced to Hey Jude at the junior high to recruit the kids who would be moving up to high school. Apparently, they had to go out into the audience of 6th, 7th and 8th graders and try to get them to dance too. My brother and I thought this was extremely funny…I mean, Hey Jude is one of my favourite Beatles songs but it’s not the first one I’d pick to dance to…. We had trouble breathing when Mom said, “But they didn’t really want to dance and so it was like being in a Brady Bunch episode where nobody else had the script.” (That really does sound like a Brady Bunch episode from the later seasons…. :-D) By that point, I was laughing hysterically but managed to say, “Is that your memory of Hey Jude?” “Yes, I guess it is.” Mom laughed. “That’s really sad.” My brother said. “Take a sad song and make it better,” Mom said, which only made us laugh harder. “And, it’s kind of a slow song so you can only do a few moves to it…” Then, while driving, she demonstrated the dance…kind of grooving her shoulders and then clapping her hands together… which made my brother and I laugh so hard that we didn’t even care that her hands weren’t on the steering wheel. Though…I did have a vague feeling that we were driving on the wrong side of the road…. :-D (Just kidding…we weren’t.) Ah, Beatles music. It brings out the best (I hope) in all of us. :-)

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Strange Tastes

I’m in the middle of finals work (talk about nightmares for final exams you have taken!) and thus, my creative ability has been significantly diminished of late. I have a phone interview with the college that I really want to go to tomorrow night. I’m sure it’ll be fine…. *gulp* (Pray for me…please.) Anyway, as I drove home from Ick today and was trying not to think about finals, I remembered something I did back in the day which amuses me now. When I was three or four, Mom had a small Christmas tree on a card table (I think to keep the presents off the floor and away from little fingers) and I think there was a tablecloth over the table too. In any case, I remember taking a fresh package of cream cheese out of the fridge, getting a knife, and crawling under the card table to eat it. I know I got the foil package open and ate some of it with the knife…but I don’t remember how much I managed to eat before Mom looked under the table and found me. :-D As if that isn’t all… I used to eat frozen raw bacon from the butcher shop too. (I guess it is cured or smoked…but still….) My sister and I actually got away with that a few times before Mom caught us. My brother is also known to have tried to eat a stick of butter in a similar way to my cream cheese episode…. My poor mother… :-) (Don’t worry we weren’t habitually rotten. :-D) Ah, childhood. It’s a wonder anyone survives it.

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