It’s Monday Memories over at R2Ks (she graciously says I co-host, but really, I just tag along).

I feel a bit surly this morning. Just found out we’re out of coffee. Have quite a bit of housework to do (it. never. stops.). Am behind in laundry (it. never. stops. more.). AND. I weighed. That blasted scales says I’ve gained a pound. Not happy. Not happy about that at all. And what kind of person am I that lets some scales dictate the start-of-the-day-mood? How shallow can I be? Oh, apparently pretty shallow. I DID post a pic of myself to solicit opinions from the internet on MY HAIR. Gack.

So…my memory. Got it. Yesterday (yesterday is not the memory, just when it was jogged to the surface of my empty head), so yesterday, Speedreader went to the roller rink (why. do. kids. like. gross. places. for. parties.?) and I helped him lace up his skates. You know, I said. Yes, I do know Mom. Know what? You don’t even know what I was going to say. How can you *know*? You used to go skating when you were my age, {with slightly bored exasperation he replies}. Well, Mr. Know All In The Universe. Yes, I did, but that’s not what I was going to say. I was going to say, if you were cool, you would NOT stoop to renting skates. That was bad mojo. You owned your own, and you brought them in a cool bag, or slung casually over your shoulder. You would never put your holy skating feet in those nasty rentals. It just wasn’t done. {entertaining me, he asks} OK, mom, so what’d you do…Well, since you asked…I had my very own pair and they were AWESOME. They were gold glitter! I rocked! Let me tell YOU how your momma looked zipping around in the backwards skate…


All he could do was hang his head in embarrassment for me. He was simply agog that I would ever don something as ridiculous as gold glitter roller skates. I’m telling you, they were sweet. Whadda kids today know, anyway. And why hasn’t someone kept a better picture of my kind of skates? They’re a classic. All I could find was this blurry shot, but the memory was so warm, I had to go with it. Groovy, baby, groovy.