Parenting: 1-Year-Olds Community

Most of you are too young to remember Archie Bunker's "All in the Family" sitcom from the 70s and 80s. But I distinctly hear Edith singing these words:

"Those Were The Days"
by Lee Adams and Charles Strouse
Boy, the way Glen Miller played. Songs that made the hit parade.
Guys like us, we had it made. Those were the days.
Didn't need no welfare state. Everybody pulled his weight.
Gee, our old LaSalle ran great. Those were the days.
And you know who you were then, girls were girls and men were men.
Mister, we could use a man like Herbert Hoover again.
People seemed to be content. Fifty dollars paid the rent.
Freaks were in a circus tent. Those were the days.
Take a little Sunday spin, go to watch the Dodgers win.
Have yourself a dandy day that cost you under a fin.
Hair was short and skirts were long. Kate Smith really sold a song.
I don't know just what went wrong. Those Were The Days.
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As Easter approaches, I'm reminded of my childhood days on Easter Sunday. They went a little bit like this:

The night before Easter Sunday, my mother would throw me and my little sister into the bath tub, scrub us from head to toe -- we were urchin children, really, always had dirt under our nails from digging trails in the woods and rarely wore shoes during the summertime -- washed the leaves and woods-y things out of our hair, and sat us down on the floor of the livingroom where she proceeded to meticulously roll our hair in curlers.

These curlers weren't your modern-day curlers. These suckers were hard plastic curlers with spikes all around them in every direction. The spikes were meant to hold your hair on the curler better. Which they did. But man, those spikes felt like I was playing Jesus in a Resurrection play. Ouch!

Sometimes, the curlers would get loose and begin to fall, so Mom would grab those really long Bobby pins, bite them open with her mouth, and stab them into our skulls and curler, where they would stay in place, hopefully, while we slept.

Sleeping was awful on the night before Easter. As I said, those curlers would sometimes hurt my head so bad that I would toss and turn all night long. Even the soft pillow I slept on didn't take away the pain I felt.

But it was worth it. Because in the morning, after my hair had spent all night drying around these plastic child abusers, my hair would fall out in beautiful spiral ringlets. My little sister and I were transformed overnight. My sis and I would dance around the room, watching our curls bounce up and down like the girls in the shampoo commercials.

Then it was time to put on our Easter dresses, purchased in matching styles but differing colors. Then came our white gloves, our white polished church shoes, and then our Easter bonnets/hats.

We'd giggle at each other, knowing full well that we weren't looking at the same person who'd just spent the morning before digging trenches in the damp, rich soil back in the woods, or the girl who'd climbed trees to the very tip top in bare feet.

We were little ladies for a day.

Off to church, then back home for roast and potatoes with gravy. Easter baskets set out proudly on the buffet with beautiful Easter-colored ribbons and brimming with candy and jump ropes.

Yep, Those Were The Days!!!!!