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Go Get Your Moms and Dads
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Go Get Yer Moms and Dads



Since social networking is really geared more towards younger people, I say “hey kids, go get your moms and dads. I’ll wait. Are they here? Okay.” This is to all the moms and dads that were teenagers back in the 70’s like I was. Face it. Life was much easier wasn’t it?

 Parents – remember when we could brush our long, thick lustrous hair without having to recheck the sink to see how much had fallen out or see that our ever growing bald spot was covered? Take sunbathing, for instance. I used to jump out of bed, brush my hair, don my swimsuit and lay in the sun for hours. Now I can’t even GO in the sun for fear of aggravating my crow’s feet or spontaneously bursting into flames when my hot flashes reach their boiling point.  Some of us ladies used to climb out of the car and jump on our guy friend’s back for a piggyback ride into the house. That was then. Now we need help getting out of our car from our guy friend (if we even have a guy friend); and if we do, we certainly wouldn’t risk jumping on his back. Chances are his osteoporosis would make that impossible anyway. To add insult to injury, we have to tug and pull at our blouses to make sure our fat bulges are covered and that our big, spandex elastic-waist pants aren’t too short. Heaven forbid if they drag on the ground like our jeans did back in the day. Remember that? The more they dragged in the dirt, the cooler they were! Now our pants just might cover our white, rhinestone studded sandals.

Remember how we used to sit in the car with our bare feet perched up on top of the dashboard? I’m lucky to be able to get my feet off the ground now. And how easy was it to squat down and look at something close to the ground? Now some of us have to actually fall into a sitting position, tuck and roll, then hope that someone will be around to help us back up.

Guys. – try getting out of the car like you did when you were seventeen. No holding your breath until you’ve cleared the steering wheel and no pushing the seat back until it’s practically hanging out the back window.

Music. Two words. Eight tracks. Mind you, these may seem a tad ‘lame’ to you kids, but at least these didn’t get as jacked up as the stupid CDs we have now (even though my kids insist I do that by holding them wrong)…duh! Pahleezz – I know how to hold a CD. Remember, I grew up in the frisbee era!

Well, you know what they say – what goes around comes around, and I have a feeling you kids are going to be enjoying the same lava lamps, giant fuzzy smiley face pillows, earth shoes, bean bag chairs and click clacks that we enjoyed. What are click clacks  you say? Two large marbles on a thin string, capable of severing a finger or other appendage, or even shooting out an eye with a flying shard of glass. Ahh, the good ol’ days!

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