I’m not sure how the conversation began. It was last Sunday morning, and everyone was milling around the kitchen. Hot cinnamon rolls were on the island, and we were all standing around munching our breakfast and drinking coffee. The conversation was loud and funny. All of the kids are home now, and the house feels two sizes smaller. Two sizes too small. The conversation eventually deteriorated. At times, we seem to have a pervasive middle-school mentally in our home, and we began to recall when we first came face to face with the REAL, biological difference between girls and boys.
A vivid memory flooded back. Burt Reynolds flashed into my head, and when I say flashed, I mean FLASHED. I recalled a time years ago with my friend Stacy as we sat on the pink shag carpet of her bedroom with the door closed looking at a really hairy man. I laughed as I told the kids about that long-ago day. Stacy and I knew that her mom had a Playgirl magazine hidden in her room. Our mothers were friends, and we had overheard their discussion of said magazine as they sat in the kitchen drinking coffee.
That picture scared the hell out of my friend and I! Who would EVER want to touch something that looked like THAT? This was during the era of Bigfoot, and I remember thinking that he wasn’t too far removed from his woods-dwelling brother. We looked at the picture, and collapsed into giggles. We snapped the magazine shut, took a few more quick peeks, and slipped it back into her mom’s room.
Of course, my feelings about men have changed over the years. 🙂 I can now see the appeal, hair and all. Although, in real life I would certainly find it laughable to see a toupee-wearing man stretched out on a bear skin rug. It made me smile to see this picture once again and to recall that time of innocence. It was a time before boyfriends and broken hearts. It was a Wonder Years memory that warmed me to remember.