My parents, when they remembered, measured my height on the back of the door to the basement. It was there that I could see how much I’d grown over the past years and a good way to be all, “I’m not THAT short” when my brother called me Stumpy. I was also, I recall, horrified by what my mother called “her handwriting.”
I’d probably do the same thing in my own house – for my KIDS, not ME – but all my doors are stained wood – nothing white here. So I have to do other things in order to see how much they’ve all grown.
Back in April, 2008, I bought myself Big Mac – a 24 inch computer that was hella awesomer than my previous computer – a 10 inch iBook with a broken screen. It was on that computer that I vowed I’d “write a book,” and “watch dancing kittens playing the piano.”
When I bought it, rather than simply take a picture of the technology, I decided to pose someone in front of it.
MUCH more interesting that way.
Also: SQUEE at chunky Baby Legs!
Alas, all good things must come to an end. Big Mac had been wheezing and choking along, trying to keep up with me as I beat on it day in and day out.
Last weekend, I’d finally had enough when, once again, Big Mac decided that I didn’t really NEED to be working any more (Big Mac LIES! I must! work! more!) for the eleventy billionth time that week. HOW DARE MY COMPUTER JUDGE ME FOR WORKING!
It was then that I realized Big Mac and I were soon to be parted.
Luckily I had just the thing to fix that.
Pranksters, meet Big Mac II.
Also: look at how far that chubby baby has come. He’s the one in the blue nerd shirt. His sister, Amelia, wasn’t even a twinkle in my eyes when Big Mac 1 came home.
(and no, that’s not Mountain Dew* OR pee in that bottle – it’s lemonade. They were playing “baby.”)
Amazing how far we’ve all come, isn’t it?
*my kids are NOT stoners.