Happy Birthday~ To Me~

Yesterday was my birthday, the best one yet so far. Last year my Dad fell in the fireplace for my birthday- this year? Nothing. Nothing even remotely as spectacular as that. Darn. Of course in all fairness my Dad was not in the best of health last year but if he had listened to my mother and not kept those file folder boxes in front of the fireplace (near his chair) he would not have fallen in. Hmmm.

Since he did nothing spectacular and entertaining this year I thought I would share about an incident that happened when I was four.

I was four in 1972 (I have a late birthday for those of you who can do the math) and it must have been late spring when this occured; I can't imagine my mother and grandmother having let me out the door in only a rain coat and matching bonnet if were any other time of year.... (although if you ask my father when this incident occured he might deny all knowledge)

My father had been permitted to take me to Jay's Drugstore, a place I thought magical for reasons I can't recall now- and when you read what happens next you'll see why I used the word permitted. I don't remember actually going in to the store but I do remember getting out of the car. I must have been a particularly full handful that day because the weather was bad and I was out in it. It was gray, raining, quite windy and in a four year old mind, a storm of cataclysmic proportions. Needless to say I didn't want to get out of the car. Now you understand my father's version of this story might be incredibly different, I was after all four, the gift of storytelling hadn't been honed yet, although I do have most of the details correct- at least in my storyteller's mind.

At that time my father drove a VW Beetle (the original 60's version for those of you with a memory beyond Playstation), powder blue and terribly dangerous. It used to pinch my fingers in the door every chance it got. I remember standing on the running board, for lack of a better term as I suppose as my father tried to get me out of the car. It was at this point my rain bonnet blew off my lovely four year old head. It was a beautiful bonnet- matching rain coat, clear plastic- a novelty really for those times, plastic is so much more commonplace today. Imagine plastic garments! It boggles the mind- and we wore them.

But I digress- so there I am, on the running board and there my rain bonnet is blowing around the parking lot. Naturally my father ran after my rain bonnet, with much encouragement from me of course. I'm unbelievably good at encouragement, and I was at the age of four too. As my father rain around in the parking lot trying to chase my bonnet down an unimaginable thing happened... his hairpiece blew off...

Now you must understand that this was the seventies and male pattern baldness was a big deal then (still is for some) and hairpieces were quite popular. Or at least they were in our household. I believe my Uncle Ken for a time fell victim to this fashion trend (at the urging of my father) as well. At that time, in my four year old world, all men wore hairpieces but of course now I realize that they probably didn't. However it is a lovely thought to have had, especially for the owners of the hairpiece company. Imagine that, all the men in America using their product whether they needed it or not. Hmmm, the marketing of the seventies truly was something wasn't it?

But now I've left my father in the parking lot again, rain storm continuing on, while he chases my bonnet endlessly through the memories of my mind. Although this time he's had to catch his hairpiece and hold it onto his head as he continues to chase my bonnet. Rather spectacular really, which is of course why I remember this story with such clarity after 35 years....

I really must remember to make the rain storm into a thunderstorm next time I tell it....

For those of you who really need to know my father did indeed catch my rain bonnet that day- but now that I think about it this might be why I don't actually remember going into the store. Not that this being a 35 year old memory from a four year old mind has anything to with it. Would you go in a store if your hairpiece was on crooked? Gosh, this story gets better every time I tell it! Happy birthday to me!

And thanks Dad for letting me tell all your stories!