Family Album

Well, it's Friday, and Friday seems like a good day to get nostalgic. So, in light of that, I decided to delve into the old Mills family photos, and now I bring you "just another evening in my childhood home." As Bread might say with their elegant and soulful crooning, "If a picture paints a thousand words," what do we have here? You'll notice that I (on the far right) am incredibly over-dressed for the occasion. My sisters are in pajamas and play wear, and I'm in a Sunday dress. (For a long time, I refused to wear pants because "ladies didn't wear pants." I would appreciate it if there were no comments on the many, many ways I've given up on "being a lady" since kindergarten.) It also seems that I have on some sort of heel or wedge shoe. And - then there's that tiara. It's probably not all that surprising that I loved small, rhinestone crowns as a child and liked to wear them whenever possible. What is unfortunate is that I often wore my little tiara to school, possibly forever cementing my place as a bit of a weirdo and the last one chosen for the kickball team. I even wore the tiara on picture day, so multiple yearbooks also provide proof of the "princess complex" I will never live down. As you can also see, Rachael (on the far right) bears an uncanny resemblance to Teddy, the middle son from "Terms of Endearment," but she's obviously a lot happier because her mother is not dying of cancer and her soon-to-be-deadbeat dad is not running around a variety of mediocre liberal arts colleges throwing himself at co-eds with unfortunate hair. Whatever is so funny that her naked Cabbage Patch doll must have its eyes covered, I don't know, and it seems to have caused some confusion at the time too since I'm staring at her and not the camera. By the way, the doll I'm holding was one that I saw on television and waited weeks for. (Hmmm, I liked infomercials even then...Interesting...) Do you remember how long 4 - 6 weeks was at that age? A few days after it finally came, there was a story on the news about how highly flammable the dolls were, and my doll had to go away. Sure, in hindsight I'd prefer not to have hideous burn scars and years of skin grafts caused by a doll who's only true selling point is the pink hair, but that is not the call I would have made back then. And, there in the middle, looking dazed and unsure of what she's been born into, is my youngest sister, Sarah. Maybe, as she's been claiming for years, she really is the only normal one...Just maybe...