Happy birthday to me!
Not a clue how old we are here. 3 and 1? Surely right around there, anyway. That’s me on the left, Deb on the right.
Again, no idea how old I was. Do I look like a happy kid, or what?
I’m not sure what’s going on here. If we were looking at the camera I’d say this was a professional portrait, but since we’re looking off to the side and beaming, who knows? Me on the left, Deb on the right.
Let’s see. I have braces and I’m pretty sure we were stationed in Guam so I would have been, oh, 7 or 8? Thereabouts? And Deb (on the left) would have been 5 or 6.
My 7th or 8th birthday. I’m holding my favorite birthday gift that year, Suzy. Suzy got pregnant later that year and gave birth to my favorite cat ever, Charlie. Then she went to live on a farm. Or so my parents claimed…
Didn’t know I was trained in the martial arts, did you? (I took judo lessons for MAYBE a month)
Didn’t know I was a cheerleader either, did you? The team we cheered for, the Saints, sucked. I don’t think they ever won a game. That’s Deb on the left, me on the right.
Me at the age of 10. I read in one of the many magazines I read even back then that when you wrote to a star, they liked it if you enclosed a picture. Somehow I doubt that this is the kind of picture they were hoping for. I loved that shirt I was wearing, because it had bird names all over it, and somewhere it said “Robin”. I was the shiznit in my home-made t-shirt, yes I was.
There goes Debbie, stealing the show with her cute self. Bitch. We popped into a photo booth-type-thing at the movie theater one night and had our picture taken. It was kinda fun, actually.