TBT: 1978

Well . . .

It's birthday month here at 'Wait . . .Dad?' and you know what that means.

Thirty one days of scotch and foot-rubs.

Actually I expect none of that.


There in fact was this one birthday that everyone (on their own) decided that they were to get me something other than scotch, so I ended up with a full bar of others things. That was the year I lost faith in humanity and 3/4's of my friends.

Anyway, since there are four Throwback Thursday's left in Waitdad's birthday month, he's decided, I've decided (I gotta stop talking about myself in the third person, it's making sex awkward), I've decided to bring a bunch of throwback birthday shots.

First of all, lemme tell you, there is a lot of things going on in this picture. In fact, there's so many things I'm gonna gloss over the semi perm my father is sporting along with the glossy white shirt with the oversized collar and plunging neck line.

He, my friends, was "Stayin' Alive."

You're welcome for that.

I might spend time being a little concerned that Dorothy Hamil is on my left, but that's my mom, and since my little brother is only five months away, she can sport any goddam look she wants.

Now if the sixties were dominated by Avacado Green, then the seventies were all about that Mellow Yellow. It's the color of the fridge, the counter, the electric frier by the fridge, the pad of the high chair, and the plastic table top surface. I honestly don't know if Mellow Yellow is the right word for that grouping of colors, but it is now. I'm putting my foot down. Every yellow from the seventies can now be called Mellow Yellow.

Also, can't you just feel that material on the pads of the high chair? That plastic covering, with it's faint 'New Car' smell and it's perpetual stickiness. I can't imagine how hard it must have been to peel my fat sweaty thighs up and out of that spot. And speaking of fat and sweaty; look at the roll of baby chub around my forearm and wrist. I must have weighed more when I was two than my own son weighs at nearly nine.

Look at those chubby cheeks and the expression of sheer glee that is on that round little kid's face. All he know is that that cherry pie is all his.

All his.

And he's going to eat most of it, and the rest he's going to throw all over that Mellow Yellow kitchen and it's gonna look like a crime scene and he's going to be so happy.

So happy.

Lastly, at the bottom of that high chair, just below the table surface you can see the little white ejection button. I wonder how long it took before that fat little kid became lithe enough to reach under the table surface, pull that button, and toss everything on that table, be it art supplies or spaghetti, right onto the floor. I do know that this is the last series of pictures with it, so it couldn't have been long.

I hope those two young parents weren't wearing so much white at the time.

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